Mealtime!

Germans have a surprisingly large number of ways to say hello to one another. There is the basic Hallo, along with the time-specific Guten Morgen, Guten Tag and Guten Abend, which are used much more regularly than their English counterparts.

But then there are other, regional variations.  People from southern Germany say, Grüß dich, which means “greet you” literally, and is related to another greeting, Grüß Gott!  Grüß Gott, in turn, is the shortened form of (Es) Grüße dich Gott, or “‘may God greet you.”  In other parts of Germany, especially around lunchtime people curiously say, Mahlzeit!, which means Mealtime!, upon seeing one another, even when they are not about to eat something.

One thing which is not said as a general greeting, however, is Hallo, wie geht’s?, the translation of the English, “Hi, how are you?”  That is considered meaningless, superficial and typically American.

Turning European

I am probably turning European in lots of small ways, but I noticed two this past weekend.

First, I am getting a little more used to public nudity — particularly to communal showers. I don’t think I had been in one of these since 8th grade swimming, almost 20 years ago. But here they’re hard to avoid, especially after volleyball practice, when everyone showers together.

The first few times I found it really odd that people not only all shower together, but also walk around in the locker room totally naked, towels in hand but not around their waists. Being an American, and a particularly self-conscious one at that, this took some getting used to. But going home to shower is really not an option when everyone goes out drinking together right after we play. So I’ve just learned to get over my insecurities and do as the locals do. I still stress about it, but it becomes less and less of a big deal each time.

Second, last night I was out at a bar with a friend and some of his friends, who were visiting from Dublin. I had met them briefly the night before, and last night we talked for about two hours. When I got up to leave, I said my goodbyes in a typical American fashion–”it was nice to meet you,” “have a good trip back,” smiles and the customary awkward half-hearted half-wave that people tend to do in such small social groups. It all felt a little strange, though, a bit incomplete.

Only when I was on the subway headed home did it occur to me that what was missing was the European physical contact–the hug and one or two kisses that accompany just about every hello and goodbye here. It’s a nice convention–a way to specifically acknowledge and affirm your relationships with friends and acquaintances, no matter how fleeting, as well as a tangible way of feeling more connected to other human beings. American conventions for saying hello and goodbye now seem a bit formal, distant and inadequate by comparison.

What I’ve Learned So Far

Halfway through my year abroad, I thought it would be worthwhile to think about what lessons I’ve learned so far this year — not about Germany or Europe, per se, but about myself and life itself. Here are four.

1. It’s the people that count.

This is a simple, even clichéd point, but I have come to appreciate it more than ever since coming abroad. I can already tell that what I’m going to take away from this year above all are relationships and friendships, both within my fellowship program and beyond it. I came abroad to experience life in Europe, to travel a lot, to learn about myself — not really to meet people. But as it’s turned out, the most important thing I’ve learned is that it doesn’t matter as much where you are as you who you’re with. What makes my time here not only interesting but meaningful — not only bearable, but enjoyable — are the relationships and the time spent getting to know new people and their stories and perspectives on the world.

I used to say that if I came into a lot of money or knew I only had a year to live, I’d want to travel the world. But this year, I’ve realized, I would change that — I would still like to travel, but only with people (or to visit people) I enjoy being with.

There is something about being away from home that has made this lesson come to life. Maybe it’s the simple fact that I’ve come to rely on relationships with other people more because I don’t have the support structure of home around me every day. Maybe traveling and being abroad itself has also made me more open, more willing to reach out and learn about others.

Whatever the cause, I will eventually return home having made friends here not only with Berliners but people who live elsewhere in Europe, and even in the Americas.  I don’t know that I will stay in touch with everyone, but it’s these friendships more than anything else that are shaping and giving meaning to my year here.

2. Be nice to the new guy–especially foreigners.

I have been guilty of not always being so friendly to foreigners in New York — not always reaching out and welcoming newcomers into a group, even if they’re just from another city or state. Being an outsider here, barely speaking the language, I’ve grown to appreciate how important it is to simply be nice, introduce yourself, extend a helping hand to the new guy. For instance, showing up at gay volleyball training and not knowing a single person was hard — and made harder when people didn’t seem to make any effort to be nice. They later opened up, but why not be nice from the outset? It takes so little effort, but can mean so much to that new person who’s feeling a little lost, a little out-of-place. If there ever were a simple gesture that there’s no excuse not to do, this is it.

3. You can run, but you can’t hide.

I’m talking about one’s habits, above all. I discovered quickly upon moving abroad that just because I’m thousands of miles from New York City doesn’t mean I will suddenly start reading all those books I brought with me, which I’ve been putting off forever. Just because I’m in someone else’s apartment doesn’t mean I will be more organized than I was in my own home. A new environment can be an impetus for creating new routines, but those have to be willfully enforced; otherwise you tend to fall right back into old ways of thinking and acting.

4. Time and distance are concepts that can and should be actively manipulated.

The world can be as big or as small as you want it to be, given modern communication and transportation. Berlin is 4000 miles from New York, but only a 7-hour non-stop flight. I can pick up the phone and call any friend or family member back home, or I can not use the phone for months at a time, and it won’t be considered strange, given the distance. I can sign into GoogleChat and talk the hours away with friends, as if they were down the hall. Or I can sign out, ignore emails, stop posting Facebook updates. Actual distances may be fixed, but how far we experience that distance to be is really a matter of choice.

The same thing is true, in a sense, with time. A year sometimes seems like way too much time here, away from friends, family, the comforts of home. It has seemed especially long — almost ewig (eternal) — when I have felt stuck in a job or a lecture program I don’t find interesting. But this year has also seemed like not nearly enough time–not enough time to sit in all the Berlin cafes and read, to visit all the museums on my list, to see all the cities I want to see.

The challenge is to be in control of the way you think about space and time — so that the amount of distance is right (not too close so as to eliminate the benefits of space and isolation, not too far to cause loneliness and homesickness), so that time doesn’t seem to run away when you want more of the present, and doesn’t seem to last an eternity when you’ve had enough of the present. Like the first lesson above, this is something I knew before, but which has become clearer the last six months.

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Not bad for the first half of the year. It hasn’t been all wine and roses the last six months, but still, just the fact that I’ve started to learn these lessons makes me think it’s been worthwhile. Hopefully the next six months will be even more educational.

They Do Love Their Meat in Germany

I was back in Kebab Haus for lunch today, enjoying my weekly oversalted, deep fried falafel sandwich, when an older German woman walked in. She glanced at the menu above, then pointed at the oblong falafel patties. “These look tasty,” she said to the Turkish man behind the counter (in German, of course). “What are they?”

“Falafel Bouletten,” he answered, or, falafel balls. “And yes, they are tasty!” Apparently quite easily convinced — and apparently having never tried Middle Eastern food despite Germany’s enormous Turkish population — the woman ordered three falafel sandwiches to go. When the sandwiches were almost ready, the man behind the counter (incidentally, there must be a useful German word for this clumsy, five-word English description!) asked what sauce the customer wanted on the sandwich. He eagerly suggested a combination of kräuter and knoblauch (herbs and garlic), which he said would go well with the vegetarian falafel.

“Oh!  These are vegetarian?” the woman asked. She feigned lack of concern for a moment. Then, although the sandwiches were now ready, she asked whether it was possible to insert Schweineschnitzel alongside the falafel. The man behind the counter, clearly now a bit less enthusiastic, popped three large pork cutlets in the deep fryer and prepared to fatten up the falafel sandwiches with a slab of meat. I guess old eating habits die hard.

German Word of the Day: Jein

I think it’s only slang, not an officially recognized German word, but people do occasionally say jein, a contraction of ja and nein (yes and no), to mean, well, yes and no.

“Yo” is taken, but perhaps “nes” could make its way into English?  Doesn’t have a winning ring to it.

Let the Sun Shine…

All those people who warned me about Berlin winters weren’t exaggerating. It’s not even close to winter yet, technically, and the high temperature has ranged between 0 and 5 degrees Celsius (32-41 Fahrenheit) the last few weeks, with rain or snow nearly every day. It really seems like a marvel when the sun peeks through, even if only faintly through the clouds for a few minutes. Part of my motivation for going abroad was to develop a greater appreciation for things back home that I had come to take for granted. Sunshine has, for the moment at least, risen to the top of that list!

I wouldn’t say I have really suffered seasonal affective disorder yet, but the grayness definitely wears you down, making you want to just stay in bed or stay home in the evenings. The mood on the streets was so completely different here in summer–it’s almost like living in two different cities.  I met someone a few weeks ago who splits the year between summers in Berlin and winters in Tel Aviv.  Now that makes sense!

You Know You’ve Lived Abroad Six Months When…

I notice that I now almost always say “the States” when referring to the homeland.  I used to be annoyed by people who used that shorthand–all those faux foreigners, ex-pats wanting to sound cool–but it’s just so universal here, that it would sound weird or obnoxious to say anything else (“the US” or “the USA,” specifically, which I would have said before). When in Rome… or Berlin…

German Word of the Day: Lustlosigkeit

Lustlosigkeit is the state of lacking enthusiasm, or Lust, for doing anything. It translates more or less to a state of world-weariness or listlessness, itself one of my favorite English words (perhaps because I all-too-often find myself in this state?).

Lust itself is one of my favorite German words, because it shares a lot with the English word lust, but is used much more frequently in German, the way we would use desire (i.e. desire to do something, go somewhere, etc.) or simply interest.

Gay Volleyball, German Style

After almost six months in Berlin, I finally made it to gay volleyball… not once, but twice last week. And it was GREAT! On Monday night, I turned up on a barren street on the northeast side of Berlin (in the old East Berlin).  It was pitch-black, freezing cold, and the three other guys there waiting to get in to the gym were not especially friendly.  I wanted to go back to New York–or at least back to my apartment.  But I stuck it out, and had a great workout and a great time, even if the players were a little above my level and I didn’t understand much of what was shouted out by way of drill instructions.  (I had to wait and watch what the others were doing.)  After the practice, we all went out for beers at a smoky gay bar in the area.  Those with cars drove; I caught a lift with a nice guy who lives on the outskirts of Berlin and had been playing for about two years.  I arrived home amid snow flurries at midnight, in one of my best moods since arriving in Berlin.

On Friday, I checked out another gym at a lower skill level.  This time I was a little above the average skill level, but this made it more fun.  Plus, the people were more laidback, friendlier and a little more diverse (more on that below).  This time practice was shorter and we had more time to play games.  Afterward, we again all went out for drinks to a smoky gay bar.  I will be playing two or three times this week.

So, how does gay volleyball here compare with in New York?

1. The balls are harder. I don’t know this for a fact, but my arms were quite bruised for days after both Monday’s and Friday’s sessions.  (By the way, in German, one says “green and blue” rather than “black and blue” to describe being bruised.  And looking at my forearms the last few days, this seems to be more accurate.)

2. The gyms are nicer and the fees lower. People here pay about 10 Euro a month to join the umbrella gay sports club organization, and in exchange get not only lots of volleyball playing time, but weekly instruction as well. The gyms are generally in great shape and even have nice working showers.

3. To claim a ball here, people shout out “Ich!” which translates to “I,” whereas we in the States usually say, “Mine!” or “I got it!”  Perhaps because “I” is too short and sounds weird?  (I’ve also heard “Ich habe,” which translates to “I have (it)”.)

4. The players are less diverse. NYC’s gay volleyball league seems to be as diverse as, or more so than, the city’s gay population as a whole. Here, on Monday night there were 24 gay white German men, plus me. Friday was a bit better–there were about 15 German men, one guy from the UK, one from Mexico, one from Spain, one Asian guy, and even one woman.

5. Players here use the back-set much more often, for some reason.  I have never learned how to properly do this, but here, it seems to be treated as a fairly basic move.

Most everything else is the same. Even the personalities–people everywhere are more or less the same, and gay men in particular can be said to share a certain way about them. But it was funny to see people playing and coaching volleyball with the same gestures, the same campy looks and displays of attitude that you find on the volleyball courts in Chelsea.