The Four-Week Itch

Today marks a month since I came to Wiesbaden, Germany; exactly four weeks ago I boarded an Aer Lingus flight to Frankfurt for (metaphorically but not actually) greener pastures. The general aim was to live totally independently, totally immerse myself in the language and attempt to acquire a higher level of fluency, and have some fun as a typical person rather than a tourist in a country I've always been extremely fond of. The independent living is going well, as despite the ups and downs I'm managing pretty well and my life has not yet gone to rack and ruin. Speaking in German is absolutely not a problem. I've always staunchly refused to speak English in Germany in the past, and this time I feel no differently about that. I've had one conversation in English in person (that is, not over Skype or the phone to family and friends at home in Ireland) since I've been here, with an Irish guy in our office who's over from Sligo where the company also has a plant, which lasted about forty seconds. On Wednesday night, I had a dream in German which thrilled me more than it should have. They say that dreaming in a language you're learning is an extremely positive sign, so long may that continue. As for fun, I've been enjoying myself. Although I haven't been living it up as much as my friends in Berlin have, I have to say that the last few weeks have been nothing less than exciting. I haven't had more than a glass (or three) of wine since I left Dublin about five weeks ago nor have I had the need to put on any make up (I tend to only do this on special occasions or nights out) but I've experienced a plethora of new things and met so many new people and visited several new places (such as a Russian Orthodox church and a museum about shipping on the Rhine. Spaß, oder?).

I feel very much at home in Germany, and always have, even when I was only in the country for no longer than a weekend at a time. I like how things work. I like its unique quirks and idiosyncrasies, and I never thought that I'd really miss things that are unique to Ireland or pine for home comforts. But, to my horror, it turns out I do. There are certain things you only have access to in Ireland, or can't access in Germany, for which I would give my right arm as I type this.

1) Irish food
German food has worn me down. It's stodgy, there's too much of it, it involves far too much meat (and often fatty meat, at that) and carbohydrates, and it never seems as fresh as food at home does. Even "good" foods, like vegetables, are ruined as they're usually drenched in butter or lard or another unidentifiable greasy substance. Today I noticed that a woman ahead of me in the queue at Rewe, the local branch of a German supermarket chain, was buying canned mushrooms (yes, canned mushrooms. Take a moment to let the enormity of that sink in, I know I needed one at the time) and nearly threw up a bit. I have to avoid the chilled aisle in said local supermarket now because if I see another packet of salami or suspicious-looking cooked ham I will require urgent hospitalisation. I take the long way around to get to the end of the aisle with the milk and yoghurt and then retreat like a bat out of hell. Speaking of milk and yoghurt, it is nigh impossible to get a fat free variety of either here. Germans also have a penchant for drinking tea out of glass saucers the size of thimbles without milk, and say "waaaaaas?" when you admit to not being a coffee drinker.  I crave vegetable soup and homemade brown bread (not made in my own home, as I don't think anybody had baked bread in my home since it was built in 2003, but by the lovely people who work in Avoca or wherever), and scones. The things I would do for a scone with real butter and jam. Oh, or home-cooked meals with fresh vegetables and the little bit of meat I do eat, and fresh fish (virtually non existent in mid-west Germany). See also: Galaxy chocolate, Tayto crisps and Barry's tea bags. I brought a stash of those with me but they'll be gone by next week and to be perfectly honest, I'm dreading it.

2) The "it'll be grand" attitude
I'm somewhat I'm embarrassed to admit that after six years of learning the language and one year of intensive study* (pah!) of the laws and culture of the country, I still couldn't give you the name of the German national anthem and be entirely confident that I was right. I can tell you what the German national anthem isn't, though and that's Que Sera Sera (Whatever Will Be, Will Be). Germans are, quite frankly, a bit insane. We all know the stereotypes, and I've experienced them as truth whilst holidaying here in the past, but you only grasp a full appreciation for the innate German sense of orderliness when you have to pay taxes and rent and things of that ilk here. They just can't let things slide or put anything of even minor importance on the back burner. They are freaking touchy about money and it turns out the reason the country is reluctant to welcome the use of credit cards with the same welcoming arms we've used to embrace it at home is because there's a possibility that people who can't actually afford to would buy things on credit and the seller would lose out on money. Moreover, procrastination is a foreign concept here which is unfortunate as I have a major propensity toward it. You complete tasks as soon as possible and if you're a smidge behind schedule in getting things done excuses aren't listened to in the same way they would be in Ireland, where we're definitely given considerable leeway in comparison. I highly doubt Lord Farquaad (the moniker I've given my old landlady of precisely eleven hours) would have kicked off as dramatically as she did in Ireland.

3) Extreme Irish politeness and awkwardness
My German colleagues just don't understand why the phrase "es ist mir egal" - I don't mind - is such a regular fixture in my vocabulary. I'll never be assertive enough to live like a true German. If somebody offers a German a slice of cake and they want a slice of cake, they'll take the slice of cake. Irish people, myself included, will refuse out of politeness or possibly out of not wanting to seem like a fat shit. If you're in a German's way, they'll tell you to move, and the offender will move without hesitation or hard feelings. In Ireland, you'd move, but grudgingly, and probably muttering "who does that one think she is?" under your breath, but then again it's also extremely likely that the person trying to get past you would just say nothing and try to shuffle past you as they wouldn't want to bother you. While I do admire the nation's assertiveness as it does make things easier and less complicated in general, with less reading between the lines, it still really unnerves me. I know it's not intended as rudeness or to make you feel as though you've done something wrong, but to an outsider (especially an Irish outsider, the Irish being amongst the most spineless people on Earth) the directness can sometimes feel that way. Of course, there are times when German assertion is with the intention of making you feel bad - yesterday, for example, I was told to "halt die Fresse" (shut the f*ck up) on the bus for talking on the phone too loudly. But I guess I was asking for that one.

4) Less dodgy pop music
I've noticed it before, but Germans are very fond of totally crap musak in shops, elevators, and restaurants. I'm not claiming that we get much better at home, but if I never hear the Europoppy strains of Cascada and her ilk again it'll be too soon. Germany also tends to go through phases of listening to nothing but one particular song, and it's usually one that was in the charts months ago in the English-speaking world or didn't even register in the first place. This month, they're all going mad for "Another Love" by Tom Odell, which isn't nearly as heinous as the song du jour when I stayed in Berlin for a fortnight in June 2011. That song was "Dirty Talk" by Wynter Gordon. Look it up, or don't if you don't want a jarringly infectious ditty reaming off a list of bedroom activities stuck in your head for the next ten days. Two weeks after moving here, my Spotify copped on that I was no longer in Ireland and gave me two options: switching to Spotify Deutschland or upgrading to Premium for €10 a month. I took the upgrade option and headed for the hills. Ain't no way I'm losing out on Kodaline for Culcha Candela (crap German pop/hip hop outfit).

5) Feeling relatively attractive
I'm not a very pretty person, but I'm definitely less conscious of that at home in Ireland where my peers are decidedly less well dressed and elegant (sorry, Ireland). In Germany, I feel like a sack of potatoes most of the time as most girls my age are slender, impeccably outfitted in the skinniest of skinny jeans, tanned, and with a head full of thick, glossy hair. They never slouch and hold themselves with such grace and they never spazz out and drop their phones whilst walking down the street and they don't stumble awkwardly every twenty-five metres. I haven't noticed any of them suddenly panic and frisk themselves and rifle through their bags and pockets in fear that they've misplaced their phone or wallet. I shall have to work on doing these things with less frequency if I am to make it in this country. I'll also have to sort out my chronic pastiness and undergo a hair transplant.

These are all minor grievances, mind you. However, I absolutely appreciate Ireland and Irishness so much more now and will resolve to complain about living there a lot less when I return in September. I'll also wipe away a bittersweet tear when the baggage carousel at Dublin Airport inevitably doesn't work or is slow and everybody will act as though the delay is totally normal, because it is in Ireland, and nobody will pace or complain loudly.

*Speaking of studying, I got my exam results last week and I'm pleased to confirm that I have passed (better than passed, actually, I got a two-two) first year law and German the first time around with minimum effort or work. Seriously, if you have IQ points in double digits then don't worry about grades during your first year of college and concentrate on having a lot of fun and lie ins. You can always cram in April.