Culture Shock #15: Unaccustomed to German customs

About a month ago, I asked my mommy very kindly if she would send me my Doc Martens. She said yes because she loves me. I knew that international shipping would take a while, but I knew my stompers would be worth the wait.

Flash forward to a week ago, I got a letter in the mail from the German customs office. I opened it to find an 8x11 black and white photo of the package my mother sent me. Lemme just repeat that in case you didn't understand, because I myself was incredibly confused at first. German customs sent me a printed out, blown up, 8x11 black and white PHOTO of my package. Call me crazy, but I would have simply preferred THE PACKAGE.

In addition to the PHOTO OF MY PACKAGE, there was a letter in the envelope explaining that I would have to pick it up in person at the customs office in Freiburg because it was marked as "suspicious". Reading this letter made me feel more American than I ever have in my entire life. My immediate reaction was: Get your hands off my property!!!! That's my package!!!! You can't keep it from me!!!!! I want my Doc Martens!!!!!! 

My journey to the customs office was long and treacherous. I had to bike to take a train to take a street car to take a bus. The train was 10 minutes late. The bus stop was on the side of a highway. And it was downpouring the entire. Damn. Time. 

Were my Docs worth it?

Absolutely.

P.S. I found a little rock in one of the shoes and it made me emotional because it traveled all the way from the U.S. to get to me. One little american rock. On a long and dangerous quest. Through German customs and beyond.

Culture Shock #14: GERMANS EAT PASTA WITH KETCHUP?????

That's literally the whole post. 

It was violating to witness.

I'm scared and I wanna go home.

Culture Shock #13: Germans don't know they are Christians

The other day, I got in my first fight with a German. Okay, "fight" is a strong word. Lively disagreement. 

The context: Today is a German holiday called Saint Martin's Day. It's some minor holiday celebrating some dude who did the following things:

1. Saw a homeless man freezing on the street

2. Ripped his own coat in half 

3. Gave half of his coat to the homeless man

4. Was granted sainthood for his good deed

Personally, I can think of nobler causes to celebrate. Not to mention, the whole "ripping the coat in half" thing makes no sense to me. Seems more like a way to ensure that both men freeze than anything else. Anyway. I digress. 

The disagreement I was having was with another intern at the Waldorf school. She had asked me if I was familiar with Saint Martin's Day, and I explained that I was Jewish and therefore don't know much about any Christian holidays. The intern responded by asserting that this wasn't a Christian holiday, just a German one. I was confused. SAINT Martin's Day wasn't a Christian holiday?? What next, Christimas wasn't either?? 

We eventually came to the conclusion that I was right. It got me thinking though, how many holidays do Germans celebrate without realizing their Christian roots? Can you even separate German tradition from Christian tradition? As if on cue, I walked into school that same day and realized we had the elusive "Religion Class" for the first time this year. Unsurprisingly, "Religion Class" in Germany means "Christian Class Where We Learn About Christian Stuff." 

To be clear, I don't mind students learning about Christianity. I just wish they called it like it was. Like don't call it "Religion Class" if it's just covering content about Christianity. Call it "Christian Class." Or "Just Jesus." Or "Hailing Our Holy Father Hour." You get the idea.

That being said, I did come out as a Jew to the fourth grade teacher the other day, and he asked me if I would help him plan a lesson about Chanukkah to teach in December. It actually made me kind of emotional, thinking about the prospect of teaching German children about Jewish tradition and holidays. I said yes, obviously. It may not seem like a big deal, but these kids know nothing about Judaism. No one here in Germany really does. I mean, they know about the Holocaust and all the terrible things their nation did to the Jewish diaspora. But they are very removed from actual modern Jewish practices and traditions and communities, which I think is a great shame. I hope I can do my part to rectify this, with the hopes of not only educating Germans about Judaism, but also working to heal my own family's relationship to this country and our past.

Culture Shock #12: Germans have absolutely no sense of humor whatsoever

Brace yourselves, because this may just be the most harrowing culture shock I've encountered yet. 

GERMANS DON'T THINK FARTS ARE FUNNY. 

It's taken me a while to finally come to this conclusion. I think I've been in denial for years, if not decades. I remember afternoons spent at Pauline's house in which a passing fart elicited not a giggle, not even an acknowledgment, from surrounding company. At that point, I figured it was just a bizarre Pauline's Family thing, and I tried to stifle my post-fart laughter at her house as best as I could (only Henrike can speak to my success on this front). 

Then I moved here and it was more of the same.

The final straw, the moment I knew it was not just a Pauline's Family thing but a German thing, happened yesterday. I was working at our after school program -- the chillest part of my day which mostly just involves eating and playing games with the kiddos whose parents don't get off work until 5pm. On this particular afternoon, I was playing the board game Sorry with a tiny pipsqueak of a kiddo. Like, I-have-to-make-sure-not-to-trip-over-her-during-after-school-program tiny. Anyway. I was in the middle of my turn when I was interrupted by the all-too-familiar rumbling bass of a good toot. I immediately looked at the pipsqueak -- now culprit -- across from me, a grin already spreading on my face. My instinct to laugh quickly faded as I was met with a deadpan expression. From an elementary schooler. Who had just farted. Like, very audibly. My grin was now a grimace of confusion. Had I imagined it? Am I so sleep-deprived that I am now hallucinating fart noises? 

We kept playing like nothing happened. A couple of minutes went by. Then, again, this time even louder. This time I was sure I didn't imagine it, such a triumphant timbre, however disproportionate it may have seemed to the size of the body sitting across from me. When I received yet again no reaction from the pipsqueak/culprit, I looked around at the other kids in the room, desperate for someone to acknowledge the reality I was currently being subject to. Alas, nothing. Absolutely no reaction from anyone. 

Before I could fully process this matrix of a situation I was suddenly in, Toot Number Three came barrelling into my consciousness. This time, I wanted to scream because my reality was undoubtedly the following: There was a tiny child sitting a foot away from me absolutely ripping ass and I wasn't allowed to laugh. 

I am convinced that this experience was a glimpse into my own personal hell, in addition to being formal confirmation that Germans (not even LITTLE GERMAN KIDDOS) find passing gas an amusing pastime. As for those who are now worried that I will lose my impeccable sense of humor to these absolutely heartless Germans, have no fear. I have a Dutch roommate who thinks farts are just as funny as I do. 

Culture Shock #11: Germans aren't made out of sugar

I showed up to my first ever date in Germany in rain pants and a rain jacket. Needless to say, I wasn't feeling my most gorgeous. I guess that's kind of the point, though. People here in Germany simply do not prioritize looking their most gorgeous. Not to beat a dead horse, but it really is functionality above all. Even on first dates. 

Our plan was to go on a hike. When it started downpouring, I reached out about rescheduling. A rain check, if you will. I should've known better - there is no German word for "rain check". The concept itself doesn't exist. Instead, there are a host of German expressions to communicate the opposite sentiment. Here are two illustrative examples:

"Es gibt kein schlechtes Wetter, nur schlechte Kleidung" - "There is no bad weather, only bad clothing."

"Du bist nicht aus Zucker" - "You are not made of sugar"

We went hiking in the rain. I wore my rain pants and a rain jacket. It was quite nice, actually. I'm slowly getting used to being more exposed to the elements on a daily basis. Not that I have much of a choice... riding a bike everywhere / not having a car / the German practice of flinging windows wide open every thirty minutes means I really do have to dress for the weather now. Comment your favorite brand of wool socks below.