The "How are you?" Code

Bad means "Bath" in German

I really love language. Learning a foreign language is like an expedition: full of long stretches, bumpy roads, and the occasional sharp turn and light at the end of the tunnel. It opens up a whole new world in terms of the people you can interact with and what you have access to within a culture. Discovering these little cultural tidbits is what makes it so much fun. Like when I found out the French call chopsticks "baguettes" or when I realized that the pastry we call an "elephant ear" in the US is called a "pig's ear" here (Germans and their pork!). Understanding how people speak helps you understand how they think, act, and interact, and also what is important to them. 

Being "multicultural" in Poland

Let's ponder how Americans say hello, for example. It is extremely commonplace in the US to throw out a "how are you?" with your "hello" without a second thought- meaning it is completely acceptable, and even expected, that you pose this "question" when just strolling by someone without any time or inclination to stop and actually hear the answer. Sometimes "how are you" even replaces "hello" altogether. A typical response to this question would be: good, ok, great, fine, not bad, or even just a smile and/or nod and no verbal response at all.

A German play on English words

I can't tell you how many times my German mother has brought this up and talked about how impolite it is. If someone asks you the question, why wouldn't they wait to hear the answer? I was talking to one of my closer German friends in Berlin about this the other day and she almost fell off the couch in disbelief. Steam was coming out of her ears she was so worked up. "What if I lost my job? Or have cancer?" she argued, "Am I just supposed to say "fine" in response?"

It's nice that YOU exist!

Yes, that's exactly what you would do if an American you're not close with greeted you and posed this seemingly innocent question. For us it's just routine, and it's most certainly not impolite. It's part of the greeting, basically joined to "hello" so much so that not asking is almost impolite. It feels like you have cut yourself off halfway through the greeting. In return, not responding how you are actually feeling (giving one of the standard aforementioned one-word responses like "fine") is how one is reciprocally polite. Unless it is your good friend, or you're sitting down with someone to chat, you don't bother that other person with what is actually going on in your life. Americans know when a "how are you?" is posed expecting an answer or not. A lot of it comes from the intonation. "Hi! How are you!?" said with a broad smile by someone strolling by is very different from, "So, how are you?" It's subtle, but any American hears the distinction.

"Now I'm going to rub you with a really nice olive oil, garlic, basil marinade"
"Are you really a masseur?"

Different cultures have different codes, and understanding the language helps you access that code. When you think about the difference between how Germans and Americans greet each other, you also see parallels with how they frame their relationships. Germans respond to that question when asked because they know the person is only asking because they expect (and want) a response. Just like there is no pretense of being "friends" with someone you are not actually friends with. Like that same German friend said to me, "You know when someone doesn't like you here." You're not expected to love everyone, invite everyone everywhere, and make friendly all the time. We do a lot more of that in the US, but I wouldn't say it's because we want or feel we have to be fake. We just have a different code for interacting with strangers and acquaintances. The line between "acquaintance" and "friend" is much wider and bolder here in Germany which makes things clearer, but it also makes it harder to break through and make contact with people in the earlier stages of a relationship. In the US there are more levels of friendship than in Germany, and there's a big difference between your friend from yoga class and your friend that you've had since freshman year of college. We may use the same word, but from the context, you can gather the significance of that relationship.

Great Expectations

Lausanne, July

The other week a colleague jokingly said it was cute I was "stressed" about a presentation I was giving in the office, and that it was very "American" of me to put in so much effort. My brain, as always, jumped to the underlying cultural implications of such a statement. Do we Americans tend to be perfectionists and put lots of effort into every little thing (at least in a professional sense)? And if so, why? Is it because we're worried about how we will look in front of others or because success is heavily valued in our society? Or because striving to be "better" and ascending the ranks in some form is part of our Puritan, ambitious, self-starting work ethic?

Colleague's husband's art in Tel Aviv, October

That may play a role, but I also have a hunch that this cultural difference is due in part to educational structure and expectations. In Germany, it's all about credentials. Not "what school did you go to?" (no Ivy League here), but more "what exact training did you receive and what exact certificates do you have?" If you have the certificate, you're expected to know a certain standardized body of knowledge that others outside the field don't have. If you don't have the certificate, well, it's not your field so why should you? Part of this must stem from the fact that people choose an academic or job training path so much earlier here than we are forced to in the States, where spending half of college earning liberal arts credits before choosing a major is the norm. Let alone the number of us who end up doing jobs after college that barely relate to our degree.

Kreuzberg, January

In Germany, life planning is notably more direct: you're filtered into a school level by age 10 that determines whether you will go to college or into a vocational path, and before entering higher education you most certainly have picked a major. That area becomes your expertise and if you want to do something else, you basically start over from scratch to get all those required certificates for that new field. Even applying to university is a more no-nonsense game over here. It's not about how many extracurriculars you did, what type of personality you have, or where you see yourself in 10 years. It's your grades and your planned field of study, that's it. This system is too rigid- 10 years old is way too early to filter, tracking puts lower-income students at a disadvantage, and the 21st century requires a more flexible skill set- but I can't deny it has its advantages, too. People are highly trained and generally competent in their fields. In the US on the other hand, the typical liberal arts college is designed to give you a well-rounded and general skill set (learning how to write and do research, learning to work well with others, etc.) and subsequently a lot of training ends up happening "on the job."

Tiergarten, February

My colleague summed it up this way: Germans plan and Americans prepare. And I think there's some truth to that. If you're well-trained for a job, you may not feel the need to do a lot of "last minute" preparation because you've been preparing for, oh, 10 years. And maybe, if I'm allowed to push it this far, the higher level of job security in Germany may make pushing yourself to the brink or outshining the others less of an issue. In a similar vein, my American friends and I have talked about how unusual it is to hear praise from teachers or bosses here. While in the US you may get a "great job!" for sorting the mail correctly, in Germany you may receive no positive feedback after a 30 minute presentation that you put hours of work into. Both situations can seem a bit ridiculous (and counterproductive) at times.

Köln, February

I would probably be more confident in my current job had I began training in international education at age 14 or 18 (or even 22 instead of 25), but a great deal of my "training" for this field and the reason I got my job is my soft skills, and those come from a variety of experiences and jobs, not from one certificate. So in typical transnational form, I think both systems have it right and wrong and could stand to learn from one another. A little planning and a little preparation never hurt anyone.  

Berlin's Bizarre Birthday

Uh, not sure how to begin this one. I suppose some context: back in September I had run into an open-air exhibit called Stadt der Vielfalt (City of Diversity). The exhibit was one of several to commemorate Berlin's 775th birthday this year that culminated with last night's celebrations.

Twilight installation in Nikolaiviertel

A little more background: Berlin turned 775 yesterday, but this is only his? her? her. her 4th birthday celebration ever. The first one to celebrate 700 years was in 1937, put on by the you-know-whos, and then two 750th birthdays were celebrated respectively in West and East Berlin in 1987. In a way, this was Berlin's first "unsoiled" birthday and the city took it as an opportunity to acknowledge the past but make a statement about the way it sees itself today and where it wants to go in the future.

Yes, this moose in stripper shoes was part of the celebration

I walked into the entire celebration a bit blind, expecting something like a typical Christmas market minus the Christmas. You know, Bratwurst and Gluehwein and live music and cookie hearts and the occasional Dirndl or Lederhosen. Your usual German festival fare. Instead I was greeted by excessive amounts of open flame and interpretive theater. I suppose it was nice that the planners mixed it up and threw in some social commentary about global warming and whatnot, but it kinda freaked me out a little. I just wasn't prepared! And the fact that I was still nursing a Sunday hangover, it being Halloween time, and there being a full moon just didn't help things.

Moose in stripper shoes approaches baby alien in ball

Berlin's only "medieval" quarter, the Nikolaiviertel, was covered in fire. A bunch of metal circle cages with inflamed flower pots and little men with clocks as heads, lightbulbs on fire as hands, rolling back and forth on unicycles on tightropes... I couldn't make this stuff up if I tried. My very insightful friend Kelly put 2 and 2 together: fire to represent light during medieval times and metal men with clocks as heads moving back and forth represented us moving from past to present (and then maybe back to the past? making the same mistakes? that was my only contribution). My "ooh cultural differences!" brain kicked in and I couldn't stop thinking how the US would never put so much open flame in a public space for fear of being sued after some drunk idiot got too close and burned himself or tossed his beer into the fire leading to a few people losing their eyebrows.

Nastya, Kelly, and I staying warm by the medieval lighting

A wounded tree and some magical creatures

Guarding or about to decapitate a lone sunflower.
I thought guarding- I'm a "glass half-full" type of girl.

At any rate it was a sight to be seen and I am glad to have seen the sight. I was even more glad to escape to a warm cafe with Kelly and Giovanni afterward to decompress with an adult hot chocolate. Quick tip for the next celebration, Berlin: if you want us to watch people dressed as fish flopping around on volleyball courts, a little Gluehwein wouldn't hurt.

Nikolaiviertel: U/S Alexanderplatz or S/Hackescher Markt (across from the Rotes Rathaus/Red Townhall)

Quarter for your thoughts

Jerusalem's Old City

Did you know that I have Christian, Jewish, and Muslim roots in me? You probably did, because I talk about it a lot. Today it came to mind as I wandered Jerusalem's Old City, wondering in which quarter I felt most "at home". For my Ukranian colleague, the pick was clear: the Church of the Holy Sepulchre in the Christian quarter. For me it was somewhat fuzzier. My strongest reaction came in the Muslim quarter, where I felt most excited but also somewhat nervous, probably an irrational by-product of not being allowed to go there on my Birthright tour. The Armenian quarter I found most peaceful- perhaps it's the underdog amongst the "Big Three" and gets less traffic? Of course they were all lovely, and as I later picked at my delicious fried feta salad at lunch (don't worry, vegetables were involved), I decided that I didn't have to choose. I will always do my best to navigate the world just as I did the narrow, winding streets of the Holy City: with an open mind and a smile. And sturdier shoes, because those stones were slippery. 

Church of the Holy Sepulchre in the Christian Quarter

Armenian Quarter

Jewish Quarter... duh

Muslim Quarter

Cash, Semi-Tourists, and Creepy Dolls

I often feel I am stuck somewhere in between resident and tourist in Berlin. Although I've been here almost a year, and know the city reasonably well, I can't seem to take a walk without snapping a dozen pics of random things like cute cappuccinos, interesting street art, or weirdly placed shoes at metro stops. Not to mention normal tourist things like monuments and parks. It could just be that Berlin is super interesting, or that I am slightly obsessed with taking pictures, but I think it's partly because I don't totally feel integrated and Berlin still fascinates and surprises me sometimes. It's a nice feeling, really, to walk to work or a friend's house and be surprised by something you see. Sometimes all I have to do is take a slightly different route to get where I'm going, and it's like an entirely new section of the city is opened up to me. Sometimes it's just going somewhere that I've thought about going to for months and just haven't gotten my act together to visit- like the district of Wedding, where a good friend just moved. And sometimes, it's being open to going to a place that's totally standard for a friend and totally new for me. Somewhere like a Balkan flea market in the depths of Neukoelln where a semi-famous artist has filmed a music video:

So last Sunday, I happily accompanied my friend Sophie to this gritty, packed, and not at all touristy (or German) market. A nice departure from the usual Mauer Park trip on Sundays which is full of tourists and hipsters. As I rifled through the one euro sweater bins, underwear with weird English phrases on them, bottles of Head and Shoulders, and boxes of mismatched plates and silverware, I tried to blend in and bargain like a local. But the tourist in me couldn't stop whipping out the camera as each creepy doll, cute parent/child scene, and delightfully intercultural moment graced my eyes.

I even got my beloved Goezleme! Not the crispy, greasy version from the Turkish Market, but a softer, creamier version that was, dare I say it, just as good.

 

Market without a name: U7/Grenzallee by Obi Markt at Grenzallee/Naumburger Strasse 33

Diversity City Turns 775

Berlin turns 775 this year. As part of the celebration, the city has created an open-air exhibit in Mitte called Stadt der Vielfalt, or City of Diversity- a huge walkable map with colorful "pins" each highlighting a different part of Berlin's uniqueness. Each pin holds a story corresponding to its particular neighborhood, like a now famous Turkish-German author's first shared home when she arrived here in the 60s, a world music workshop for children, and a story about how immigrants introduced the potato to Berlin. The exhibit portrays Berlin's history as one of immigration, diversity, and inclusion, while making sure not to ignore past (and present) problems of exclusion, persecution, and discrimination of those who are "different".

I also found my neighborhood...

...my office (and the pond I walk around after lunch every day!)...

...and even a pin about my beloved Thai Park!

Berlin, I love you and your diversity. Happy birthday.

p.s. you don't look a day over 500.

Gesehen: Back to School

Storefront window

It's back to school time in Berlin, right as our "summer" here is really beginning, at least weather-wise. This kids clothing storefront window says "We wish all schoolkids a successful beginning of the year." The cone shaped bag that the kids in the drawing are holding is called a Schultuete or Zuckertuete (schoolbag or sugarbag) that kids get on their first day of the first grade, full of goodies like chocolates and candies. That's one way to get kids to like school!

My First Iftar

I don't observe Ramadan but I am always up for a good cultural experience, so I jumped on an invitation to have Iftar dinner with my Tunisian-German friend Hana and some of her family last Monday. After work I met Hana and we drove out to Spandau, just outside of Berlin, where one of her five sisters lives with her family.

Hana and one of her adorable nephews

Iftar is the fast-breaking evening meal during the month of Ramadan when observing Muslims only eat before sunrise and after sunset. The month of Ramadan shifts every year, but in summer months it is especially difficult because the sun rises earlier and sets later. Hana said she had gotten up at 3:30am to eat that morning and it was just after 9pm by the time we sat down to dinner. Thank goodness we're not in Finland.

Hana, her nephew, and I before dinner

I decided to do my part by eating less that day than usual leading up to the meal, meaning I didn't have bread with my lunch salad and stayed away from snacks. Still I felt like the one most eager to eat by the time we sat down with the first course. Hana noted that they tried to eat slowly and deliberately after a long day of fasting because their digestion can act up after many hours of not eating. Apparently she and her younger sister had gorged on pasta the night before and had major stomachaches afterward.

The food was delicious and abundant. We started with a light soup with a bit of lemon which is traditional for the first course. Following the soup came some fried crispy things, and who doesn't like fried crispy things?! Then came the main course: peppers stuffed with meat and sauce, rice, and salad.

My plate

I happily ate everything and then split one last fried crispy thing with Hana before we adjourned to the living room to rub our bellies and prepare for dessert. Hana's friend had brought some yummy baklava-esque concoction filled with a soft creamy mild cheese, a sprinkling of crushed pistachios, and drizzled with sugary syrup. Man was it good. Lots of cookies, chocolates, nougat, and watermelon also graced the table.

Dessert

One interesting last thing to note was the water. I noticed Hana's older sister pour something into the bottle and when I took a sip from my class, I immediately felt like I was drinking cleaning solution. I must have made a face because Hana laughed and asked if the water was too strange for me. Apparently in Tunisia it is an Iftar staple to drink water with orange blossom essence, which to me tasted like Windex. I'm all for trying new things but after a few more brave sips gave up and drank juice.

After-dinner lounging

Birthday Lesson

Birthday trio still smiling at the brewery

Last weekend I celebrated my first birthday in Berlin. Well, my 27th birthday, but my first one in Berlin. A bunch of my friends here also have birthdays in July, so my buddies Keighley, Max, and I decided to throw a joint party on Saturday the 14th. Keighley's bday was the 13th, mine the 15th, and Max's the 22nd. Now it's important to know that in Germany, celebrating before your actual birthday is just not done. Germans believe this is very bad luck, indeed. So much so that when we celebrated my Opa's 80th on Memorial Day Weekend, a couple days before his actual birthday, we were only allowed to call it his "Pre-80th birthday celebration." So much so that when I cooked for my office on Friday (it's customary here to supply treats for your own birthday), everyone complimented my food and asked about my weekend plans, but did not dare to wish me a happy birthday.

Celebrating my birthday at the office

There is one exception to this rule called "reinfeiern" which translates loosely to "celebrating into," basically celebrating through midnight when it becomes your actual birthday. So Friday the 14th I was in the clear, and as is tradition, no Germans wished me a happy birthday until the stroke of midnight, when I was accosted with kisses, hugs, and gifts.

I was accosted by something else at midnight, namely the bar manager who decided he didn't like our group and threw us out shortly thereafter. We had picked a brewery called "Brauerei am Rollberg" for our shindig in Neukoelln, a neighborhood which is heavily populated by Turks and one of Berlin's poorest and most "dangerous." Many of my friends live there (if not there then only slightly north in Kreuzberg) and the area has become quite hip in recent years, with more and more young people moving in and cool bars and restaurants with them.

Two Americans, a Brit, and a Belgian!

We (I) had called the bar the day before to warn them we were a slightly larger group and to ask if it was ok if we brought cake. Right away I noticed the guy was an ass, but he claimed it would be fine if we were outside and that they just couldn't put tables together. So on the night of the party we started outside as promised, but when temps dipped into the 50s (yes, 50s in mid-July, my coldest birthday EVER) we moved inside, with the waitress' assistance. Our group grew over the next couple hours, to be expected when 3 people share a celebration, and we took up about 40% of the place, some of us at tables and some at the bar. We were a pretty lovely group though, if I do say so myself. Very diverse with Americans, Brits, Germans, French, Turks, Eastern Europeans, etc., and we all bought plenty of drinks to justify our presence without getting rowdy or too loud. But for some reason, the (portly, white, middle-aged) manager did not like us. So about 4 minutes before I could properly "reinfeier," he pulled me aside and very aggressively claimed I had not listened to him on the phone, that we were too big of a group, that he wanted us out. Mind you, there was no line at the door of people trying to get in. No inappropriate behavior from our group. But as he "reasoned," this was his place and he could do as he saw fit, which in this case was get rid of us.

So we left. As we trickled outside and waited for the last few paying out their tabs, he shut off the outdoor lights and locked the door from the inside. A guy from another group (with lots of piercings and tattoos) came out and started chatting with us, explaining that the real reason for us getting kicked out is that we seemed "rich." Oh? The same guy who warned me on the phone that if we nursed an apple juice for 4 hours he would kick us out because he had to make money thought we had too much money? Yes, too much money. Too much education. Too little "typical Neukoelln." We represented the gentrification this man hated and as a political statement, he had kicked us out of his establishment to make room for the real Neukoellners: the poor, the immigrants (though we were the only immigrants there that we could see), the down-trodden. I guess my sparkly tank top and birthday smile gave me away.

Celebrating at another bar after the drama

The next few days, a slew of my friends left nasty reviews on Yelp, Qype (Germany's Yelp), Facebook (which they promptly deleted), etc. Probably exactly what they expected from us "affluent, educated consumers" and all. But it felt good anyway.

So, lesson learned? Maybe celebrating before your actual birthday really is bad luck. Or maybe, I just really live in Berlin now, and have to take the bad with the good. Others deal with far worse after all!

Sad Schland and their Soccer

Spotted morning after the loss to Italy

When Germany lost to Italy in the Euro Cup Halbfinale a few weeks ago, one of my American friends who hates soccer sneered, "Well good, let someone else in Europe win at something for once." I'll admit a teensy (teensy!) part of me wanted Greece to beat Germany in an earlier game, but I love Germany during soccer tournaments, and honestly, I think they deserve any and all soccer success and more importantly, all the excitement that goes along with it.

Pringooooooals

Not all German snacks are American

Here's why. Germany has a dark, horrid, and painful history, and as a result, is very averse to signs of patriotism. Insert requisite comment about them deserving it entirely. Soccer is the one safe outlet Germans have to put up flags, eat patriotic snacks, and cheer for their fellow countrymen- what Americans do every freaking day.  So yeah, it warms my heart to see cars with those red, black, and gold covered rear-view mirrors and baby flags and people wearing jerseys and screaming "Schland!" and "Schweinsteiger!" Oh wait, that last part was just Daniel.

This is about as intense as it gets

Watching the game from a Thai restaurant

Another thing I like is that game viewing is such a public affair here. In the US, sports viewing seems somewhat private. Especially big games like the Superbowl, which people tend to exclusively watch at home with friends and family.  (I'm sure public drinking laws play a large role here.) The Euro Cup in Germany was like an extended outdoor party. Berlin's immense amount of bars and restaurants with outdoor seating were packed with people for every game. Not to mention the "Fan Mile" by the Brandenburg Gate.

Euro Cup eggs

"Fan Mile" for public viewing

But man, even after a goal (and lots of beer) the cheering is pretty subdued compared to American standards. So I ask you to let the Germans have their soccer. They need it.