A brief attention-seeking interlude

Comment settings have been changed! It should be easier to comment now. Let your voices be heard. I am haunted by the idea that this blog is just an ongoing conversation I am having with myself. 

Happy Monday!

Culture Shock #20: Germans keep it square

I assume that most of you are familiar with the German chocolate brand "Ritter Sport." Select flavors are available in the states, while a much more extensive array of flavors can be found in practically every supermarket in Germany. It's a pretty decent affordable chocolate brand that I've consistently kept stocked in my pantry since moving here. 

Last night, I was noshing on Ritter Sport: Peanut Edition (whole peanuts, dark chocolate...simply sublime). With an idle mind and a mouth full of peanuty goodness, I flipped the canary yellow chocolate package over to see what was written on the back. There, in the middle of the package, printed in bright green capital letters, was something I'd never really paid attention to before: Ritter Sport's motto. 

"QUADRATISCH. PRAKTISCH. GUT."

Readers, I don't mean to offend your ability to work out a couple German cognates. However, if you intend on enjoying the rest of this blog post, it is essential that you fully comprehend Ritter Sport's motto. Therefore, I will provide the direct translation below. Please feel free to skip over the translation if you are 1) fluent in German, or 2) very confident in your cognate deduction abilities. Without further ado, the direct translation of Ritter Sport's motto:

"QUADRATIC. PRACTICAL. GOOD."

I don't know about you, but when I'm searching for a good bar of chocolate, its quadratic form is certainly not my top priority. Yet, this detail is what Ritter Sport's German marketing team chose to lead with. Importantly, the word "Quadratic" is not an off-hand quirk that Ritter Sport offers in a chocolatey blurb written in 10-point font on the inside flap of their packaging. Rather, it is the first word in their motto. If someone knew nothing of Ritter Sport, the first thing they would learn about these iconic chocolate bars is that they are....square.

Let's now move on to the second word in Ritter Sport's motto: Practical. What makes a bar of chocolate practical, exactly? Is it its quadratic form, perhaps? But why would a square bar of chocolate be more practical than a rectangular bar of chocolate? Hell, I don't see anything wrong with a circular bar of chocolate now that I think about it. Even if one of you could provide me with a feasible answer to this question (why is a square bar of chocolate more practical than a differently-shaped chocolate bar?), what a weak continuation of this already-questionable brand motto. Practical?? Chocolate?? I mean I know this is Germany, but lord have mercy. Must everything have a practical function? Is practicality really what Germans value in a bar of chocolate? Surely Ritter Sport chocolate has better qualities worth highlighting. What about the wide variety of flavors, including various vegan options? Or the generous portion of nuts and fruits granted to each bar? Speaking of, may I point out that (two words into Ritter Sport's three-word motto) we have yet to address how the chocolate tastes? 

Which leads me to Word Number Three...Good. GOOD? Is this the best adjective the German Ritter Sport marketing team could come up with? A four-year-old could think of a more imaginative alternative. "Good" isn't even a high-praise adjective. Why not "Great"? Why not "Fantastic"? At first glance, it seems as though this iconic chocolate brand suffers severely from low self esteem, although this could also just be an example of brutal German honesty. Even the German Ritter Sport marketing team couldn't indulge in a bit of hyperbole. 

Given my reaction to Ritter Sport's motto, I was curious about what the Ritter Sport packaging looks like in the United States. Did the English-speaking branch of Ritter Sport's marketing team react like I did to the excessively German Ritter Sport motto? Did they opt to change it, or just Google Translate it and call it a day? I decided to do a bit of research, and low and behold...

"QUALITY. CHOCOLATE. SQUARED."

This is the motto that appears on Ritter Sport chocolate packaging in North America. 

"QUALITY IN A SQUARE."

This is the motto that appears on Ritter Sport chocolate packaging in the U.K..

You might notice that these mottos are not, in fact, direct translations of the original German motto. I'm sure I could write an entire essay about the ways in which various translations of Ritter Sport's motto reflect the cultures they aim to sell to, but I don't have time for that. I will say though, that post-Googling, I feel very validated in my reaction to the German Ritter Sport motto. It simply wasn't written for me. 

Culture Shock #19: Germans can't use straws

Did you know that plastic straws have been illegal in Europe since 2021?

Can you imagine the U.S. trying to attempt the same legislature?

The backlash, the protests, the posters. I mean, the jokes practically write themselves. ("DON'T TAKE AWAY MY RIGHT TO SUCK!")

I did not find out that plastic straws are banned from the entire continent of Europe through my keen sense of observation. The fact that I hadn't spotted a plastic straw since arriving in this country - or any straw for that matter - didn't even occur to me until I handed my Hydroflask to a thirsty German friend and watched them puzzle over how to drink from it. (For those of you who don't know what a Hydroflask is...you must be my German readers. Here. https://www.hydroflask.com/ Get educated.) (Side note: this blog is not an ad campaign.) (Another side note: I wish it was)

My German friend tentatively accepted the Hydroflask in their hands. I was confused about why they were so confused. Did they think I'd roofied the water? Also why weren't they even opening it? They turned the bottle over in their hands contemplatively. Peered down at the cap. Touched the cap. Retreated quickly. 

Me: Oh my god.

Friend: What.

Me: You don't know how to open the cap.

Friend: That's not true.

Me: Then why aren't you opening it.

Friend: Don't wanna break it.

Me: That makes no sense.

Friend: It's yours, I don't wanna break it.

Me: You would know you wouldn't break it if you knew how to open it.

Friend: Okay I don't know how to open it. 

Me: 

Friend: Don't laugh.

Me: I'm gonna laugh.

I laughed, and then showed them how to flip the straw up from the cap. I thought the struggles were behind us both. This was my mistake. I watched, in horror, as they gratefully accepted the water bottle back from me, put the straw in their mouth, and then proceeded to TIP THE WATER BOTTLE UP TOWARDS THE SKY.

Me: Whoa whoa whoa stop.

Friend: What?

Me: Put the water bottle down.

Friend: Why?

Me: There's a straw in it.

Friend: What?

Me: There's a straw in it. Hold the water bottle straight. Suck out of the straw. 

Friend: It's not working.

Me: You're not sucking.

At this point, dear reader, you may be thinking...dang Emma, you've found yourself a pretty dumb friend. I assure you, however, this friend is incredibly intelligent. I also assure you that I have watched another German attempt to interact with my water bottle in the same way, yielding the same confuddled results. 

The only conclusion I can come to is that, since the official ban of plastic straws in 2021, the entire concept, the entire PHENOMENON of straws - what they look like, how they function - has been erased from the collective European memory. And what a beautiful conclusion to come to. I cannot imagine a more concrete yet poetic sign of progress. Maybe there is hope for Mother Earth after all! Just no more hope that Germans will appreciate my snazzy Hydroflask...a trade-off I am reluctantly willing to accept. 

Culture Shock #18: A German two minutes

I have had the pleasure and honor of brushing my teeth with a few different Germans over the past couple months. I have mixed feelings about these encounters, which I would like to explore in this post.

Firstly, I meant it quite earnestly when I wrote that it was a pleasure and an honor to find myself in these joint teeth-cleaning encounters. Before I moved here, I wasn't sure I'd successfully convince a German to get coffee with me, let alone brush their teeth with me. 

I feel the need to not-so-briefly clarify here that I'm not going around inviting random Germans over to my house to brush their teeth with me. Rather, I see me brushing my teeth alongside various Germans as a sign of successfully-foraged intimite and meaningful friendships. I mean, in order to find yourself in a cramped bathroom knocking shoulders and elbows with someone as you both foam peppermint at the mouth, you and this person were presumably first out on the town together. Maybe yall went to a club, or a party, or a showing of the new Studio Ghibli film. Wow, how sweet! Maybe you and this person even pre-gamed together before heading out to the party, or went out to dinner before the movie. That's already a primary and secondary location. You must enjoy each other's company! Then, that person has to like you enough to invite you back to their place afterwards (tertiary location!) even though it would be perfectly socially acceptable to go your separate ways at this point in the night. After all, it's almost midnight. This friendship thing is going really well! Then, after you decide ,"What the heck? I'll spend the night!", you have to feel comfortable enough shoving your index finger in your mouth and rubbing grainy toothpaste on your molars in front of this person because you didn't think to bring your toothbrush with you. (To a club? Come on.)

Budding friendships, tertiary locations. It's all well and good for me up until here, where things start to get a little humiliating for me (in a way that I, admittedly, should have seen coming). By now I have learned that German dedication to precision and accuracy is no joke. Of course German dedication to precision and accuracy applies to the allotted two minutes that dentists tell us we should all be brushing our teeth for. Before I moved to this country, I assumed I brushed my teeth for two minutes. Or at least, around two minutes. Okay, maybe a minute forty-five. A minute thirty at the minimum. But definitely for a good long while. Hey, my teeth feel clean when I'm done, okay?

Let it be known that my American "good long while" is significantly shorter than a German Two Minutes. In an attempt to illustrate the difference between these (both incredibly valid!) measurements, here are all of the thoughts that I have time to think in between the time I wash my foamy finger off and my German friends finally set down their toothbrushes:

I think I'm getting better at brushing my teeth with my finger. 

I even got a good foam going that time round.

Is that a chin zit?

My friend is still brushing their teeth.

I started before them, right? Like at least a little bit. They'll be done in a second.

I hope I get to sleep on the side of the bed closer to the bathroom. 

I'm hungry again.

They're still brushing their teeth. Damn, they're thorough. 

Is that the same chin zit as last time or a new one?

I should have brushed my teeth for longer. This is making me look bad. This is making my country look bad. 

I want fluffy pancakes and sausages and eggs and also a fruit cup.

Okay it's for sure been two minutes by now. Should I leave the bathroom? I feel like that would be weird at this point. Potentially also make my country look bad.

Zit resurrection....there's gotta be a joke there somewhere. 

How is toothpaste not just falling out of their mouth by now and also running down their toothbrush onto their hands in between their fingers and dripping into the sink?

Also hashbrowns would be nice but only if they're crispy on the outside.

Is time different in the metric system?

Ah okay they're done. Phew. That was only like 20 seconds longer than me, for sure.

I feel like every time I find myself in a version of this situation, I try to match brushing-teeth pace a little more. Of course, it is easier when I have an actual toothbrush. But even then, I have always been outmatched. The last time I tried to brush my teeth as long as a German, I ran out of breath. I definitely did not Google question #6 afterwards.