Doing "The Next Right Thing"

Daily Reading No Matter Where I Am

    Moving to another country is a completely different thing than visiting or working for awhile. It's really quite hard, emotionally torturous sometimes, in fact. The classic 1st-world Expat, although often well-paid and treated well simply for being American, is a deeply lonely person who drinks a LOT and slides into bitterness about Germans and Germany (or wherever) when he or she is in the company of someone who speaks their native language. 
    And we all know this unhappy person, because we end up spending time with people we'd avoid back home. We do it simply because they're American, and we crave that so much after we leave it, we crave the Americanness.
    It's good advice to avoid the Negative People. But sometimes you just can't, and sometimes they're very enticing. The "Contempt Prior to Investigation," or alcoholic, mindset has created some of the world's funniest (and most sarcastic) writers and performers. 
    I used to be really good at finding things to snarkily laugh about (and entertain others with) before I decided snark just wasn't good for me in the long run. It kind of rots the soul. The only other option is...sincerity.

And so I am sincerely working my version of Step 3:


We made a decision to believe in the possibility of living in a country from which our ancestors emigrated, to trust that this guidance comes from a Higher Power of our understanding, and to strive to take no challenges personally.

    J and I had the foresight (having done this before) to agree not to split up while we are here; otherwise we might have done it by now! (And be regretting it...) Because when you're miserable and you're isolated in another culture, it's easy to take it out on your partner. 
    That's where that part about not taking anything personally really comes in handy.
    We eventually have to feel what we're feeling, whether we distract ourselves with big life changes or not. Eventually it catches up to us. And often we need more than anything the comfort of the everyday. Doing the next right thing, like making a nest for ourselves, or helping a friend dig a garden or volunteering for something. Simple things like those are very difficult to do when you're a foreigner. And it's then you realize how important they are...
    The real challenge for me, over and over again, is to say Today is My Life, whatever and wherever I am. Spending time dreaming of the perfect life is for me both addictive and dangerous. I can say with absolute certainty that if I am not happy where I am now, I won't be happy in that dreamy place. Happiness is a choice and a daily practice and it's always different from what I thought it would be...What did I think Germany would be like? Just different, really, and boy, is it ever!

Brave Enough to Try, Brave Enough to Stay?

Darks Days, Light Hearts

We went to Füssen today, the city near Neuschwanstein, the "fairy tale castle" built by Ludwig II, who may have been murdered at 40 because he was a little too nice, a little too gay, a little too fond of building castles instead of going to war. The mountain ranges here are just astonishingly beautiful, ragged, jagged peaks, nothing rounded or comforting. Great vistas, and today was VERY sunny, a change for us. The snow has largely melted. 
    On our way today, a hawk was flying very low over the autobahn. And then there was one on the ground, not moving. I'm thinking maybe that was it's mate and that was why it was flying so low. Pigeons are mating in the snow on the rooftops here. Tomorrow, snow, high of 30. Saturday, high of 57. Wow!
    I'm getting many opportunities to explore enjoying cold weather and snow. And I'm getting braver about doing so, I think. We took the train to Chiemsee on Sunday, a lake with castles, and spent some of the day on the open top of the ferry. It was in the 20s but the sun was out, so hiking around the islands and even being outside on the ferry deck was unexpectedly beautiful. 
    My feet have yet to freeze, which keeps surprising me.
    Aging, winter, death, darkness - nothing like January to bring us back to our favorite philosophers to get us through. Mine is Anne Lamott.

    I am focusing on my version of Step 10 these dark days:

We continued to take personal inventory of our fears and joys, and to accept that we are not perfect, that change is difficult, and that we love ourselves for being brave enough to try.

    We were brave enough to try, but I still don't know if we're brave enough to stay. But I'm taking my friend Anette's advice and making no decisions about the future in the winter.

The Holiday Cheer and the Holiday Ache

We are having a very low key Xmas Day, recovering from a long and involved and wonderful and delicious Christmas Eve Dinner, the big event here, cooked for us in 7 courses by very generous German friends. Along with a different alcohol for every course — whew! A true feast. I am exhausted and all I did was eat and drink and talk (but in my defense, much of the chat was in German which I do struggle to participate in).
    The Christkind, or Christ child, comes here with presents on Xmas Eve — Xmas itself is not a big day, I haven't even heard any church bells, altho it could be because the temperature just dropped (from way too high for the season) and the windows are tightly closed. The bells were thundering last night during dinner at our friend's apartment, at 6ish and then again at 10ish and then at midnight: they live around the corner from a very large church tower which is still rung by hand by extremely enthusiastic bellringers. The church, Catholic as most of them are here, is St. Maximilians and it overlooks the River Isar, and is transcendently beautiful in the fog.

Yes there is snow at Garmisch-Partenkirchen

   I miss our son more than I can say: this is possibly the unsurmountable ache that will end up making us move back (if he doesn't meet and marry a nice German girl and stay here). He's flying here on 8 Jan, and we're counting down the days! John is excited to take him out for a spin in some new BMW i3 Electric Hybrid they're working on (I think that's what it is, I forget exactly), and we'll definitely get up to Garmisch-Partenkirchen and the Carvendel mountain range so he can go snowboarding. If there's snow!
    We have a mini Cooper to drive for a week while his company is closed, so we might zip over to Austria or Freiburg, or even Italy, although it's looking like snow everywhere and we're not enthusiastic about being stuck in massive traffic backups in the snow in a mini, so...maybe we'll just hole up in the apartment. There's 20 times the number of people here than in Oregon, and that does not make for spontaneous, carefree driving, so we've hardly ever driven. 
    It turns out Munich is a wonderful place to be in the month of December! As long as you're okay with being out in the cold. Everything is lit up like crazy, lights everywhere, even on the construction cranes, but particularly beautiful in the city center. And Weihnachtsmarkts everywhere, large and small, traditional and a little wilder (artsy in the historically art neighborhoods, naughty in the gay neighborhood), even a Medieval version in the Residenz.
    Because it's so beautiful it's not that hard to work the Step 8 I use:

We became willing to attempt to unconditionally love the ways of this culture so different from the one we were raised in, but one in which we respectfully seek a home, while continuing to honor the ways of our birth country.

   On a good day, it's the most beautiful December I've ever experienced. On a bad day, I still wonder what we were thinking...

It's The Little Things, Good and Bad...

A Relaxed Stance of Mutual Respect 

One thing I am really enjoying about southern Germany is their obvious deep love and respect for their canine companions. Dogs here are treated very much like a friend, more than anyplace I've ever been. They are often off leash; and almost always the leash is a harness rather than around their neck. Which makes sense, because who pulls a friend around by their neck?

    Usually their human partner strolls completely at the dog's pace. I've only ever seen a person pull on a leash once since I've been here, even teenagers out walking the family dog. They just don't do it. Their kindness towards their animal companions is quite touching. I love it, being in a place where everyone treats their animals like I do.

    And the dogs are completely uninterested in other people, they are totally focused on their own person and the other dogs they come across, which they run to and play with in an uncontrolled-by-humans way, and it's just no big deal. There is NO aggression. It's really kind of mind-blowing. 

    This is part of finding out that pretty much every stereotype I've ever had about Germans has been false. They are mainly kind, calm, quiet people who can be openly affectionate to their animals and children. Interesting. I've heard the odd one yell, but that was clearly the odd one.

    My own state of mind, although much calmer than before, varies wildly between 

1) completely overwhelmed and depressed (actually only about 1/20 of the time)

2) busy being enraptured with München-ish life (1/4 of the time)

3) completely challenged by everyday things like finding chili powder (impossible) or a doctor whose receptionist speaks English (difficult) or 1000 other things that we take for granted (all the rest of the time).

    My biggest achievement in the past few days is finding a certified German/English translator who will "translate" our marriage certificate which I had to order anew from Oregon because it had to be issued within the last 90 days and had to be "apostilled" and which I must present to the authorities by 4 December. All because I kept my last name.

    I believe we have decided to stay for now. This is a 180 degree change from about a month ago, when we were looking at packing it in. J is really enjoying his job now, and I've made friends. We are still in our small apartment in a not-so-great part of town, but it has its highlights.

    I'm recovering from a HUGE hit of gluten. I missed an ingredient while reading the tiny German print on a food can label and I cooked chili with cans of tomato sauce to which they had added SEITAN (pure gluten, pretty rare to find). I got so sick, for the first time in years, very depressing.

    So, I'm staying close to home and knitting alot and now I have time to work on my book. Silver lining.

Just Be Direct, Already! (Why New Yorkers Do Better Here)

Therapeutic Mushroom Hunting in Denmark 

   Well I can't write about having fun living in Germany right now because it hasn't been anything like that lately. Just a hard slog emotionally every day. 
   So I went to see my friend Anette in Denmark. A trip comparable in distance to traveling to central California from Ashland. And slept and read when it rained and walked around quiet lakes when the sun shone. Gave myself a week off from trying to understand everything German. And a week away from the big city, which is a harder change than anything. And it worked! I came back much less worried about everything.
   Ah, the magical power of vacation!

   Meanwhile J was hitting a wall at work and was ready to quit after several non-productive meetings with his boss. It looked like we were going to give it up after just 2 months. Then some English friends sat us down for a chat and said, "Look here. You're not communicating like a German. Time to be VERY DIRECT." Which is almost impossible for an Oregonian, but he did it! And they listened! Now he's on a new team and things are going very well. And it looks like we're staying.

   Today is his 2nd paid holiday. It was a Catholic one in August. This one is German reunification day. And amazingly it's not raining! I am on my way to Dorfen, where my New Zealand friend lives. J is of course riding...he knows how to get happy and that's good.

   Of course I'm trying to be upbeat when I write these posts. But there's a whole other side to moving here. I'm working my version of Step 11 right now:

We sought through giving thanks, asking questions, and listening carefully for answers, to improve our conscious contact with our Higher Power to improve our integration into our new country.

So: I'm thankful to be here. And it's okay that I'm struggling, even if you and my friends think I should be excited all the time. I am not sure 54 is the right age to do this. However I did just meet a 65 year old man last night who retired here from New York 3 years ago. He doesn't speak German, even after many years trying (a dozen). But he loves it here.

Willingness to Make Mistakes and Look Foolish

The Flowers I Deserve for Going Swimming in Deutsch with Psychotherapists

Today this version of Step 3 is guiding me:

We made a decision to practice self-love and to trust that with the help of a Higher Power of our understanding, we can strive not to take anything personally.

We just returned from our first trip out of town: to wonderful Frau B's new apartment in stunningly beautiful Schwartzach (near Bregenz), Austria, a very kind and generous friend of friends. And to party after party where we had/got to speak Deutsch (also the language of Austria, although a little different) or else sit in silence when folks weren't making an extra special effort to speak to us in their amazingly fluent (but still hesitant) English. My month of learning had the opportunity for a full immersion treatment.

So I took a vow of willingness before we left our apartment, forgave myself in advance for making many, many mistakes and (this is big) LOOKING REALLY FOOLISH, and jumped in. 

The Very Stylish Frau B

I took my baby Deutsch out for a swim whenever possible. My Iches and blumens splashed through the airwaves over and over again desperately seeking a verb to attach themselves to. And I tried to remember to put that verb at the very END of the sentence. "I must these beautiful flowers photograph." "I will today to the church at the top of the mountain climb."

Which is a whole new verbal acrobatics: the dreaded German grammar, which reduces otherwise confident people to quaking mounds of jelly. Or causes them to give up on learning the language altogether.

Cool Abstract Art and Sunlight

The Austrians just happened to be PSYCHOTHERAPISTS, by the way. Get it? Sigmund Freud was from Austria? And my first trip to Austria just happened to feature a party with a bunch of psychotherapists???? Who were friendly but not overly impressed with my cute little baby Deutsch. Particularly Florian across from me who was actually FROM VIENNA and related to emperors or something I didn't quite catch (but he was getting a little friendly ribbing about from the other non-Viennese Austrians).

Still, I could tell he was surprised when I could not only say his name "Flohw-(rolled r)ree-AHNN" but knew that it was a favorite in Bavaria. "Oh, you mean like Cafe Florian in Schwabing near the Englisher Garten?" 

What a show-off I am sometimes!

I didn't tell him that the only child I know here in Munich, currently rocking his Terrible Two's full-tilt, is named...Florian!

The Vienner (man from Vienna) and his friends shared that his nickname is "Flo," and I managed both not to laugh and not to let him know how much he wouldn't want to use that if he visits the U.S. 

(How did I manage this amazing feat? My Al-Anon mantra is currently the wonderful mini-inventory "Does it need to be said? Does it need to be said now? Does it need to be said now by me?" The answer is almost always no, particularly if my motivation is just to be clever.)

Admiring the Amazing View Before the Party

I really wanted a chance to roll out some of the bigger words I've learned like erlebnis (experience) and herausfordnerung (challenge), but I was nervous and so I stuck to Ich leben in München, etc. 

But I did manage to use one of my new favorites: pflanzliche, a word that just has it all! A P! An FL! A Z!!!! All voiced, mind you. Plus that delicious "leesh" sound at the end. And it means something cool, too: herbal or perhaps plantlike. As in, Welcome to the beautiful pflanzliche garten. The psychotherapist on my right and I decided after discussion and consultation with Google that perhaps "botanical" was the coolest definition.

The Pflanzliche Buddha Tree and the Mountains

He was a really nice psychotherapist, by the way. He claimed he was a nerd but actually he was just wearing hipster Seattle-style glasses (big chunky black frames, but no tape holding them together). John and I easily outnerded him. And yes, the German word for that is particularly easy: das Nerd.

Nerds and Psychotherapists and Good People All

My other current fav Deutsch word is manchmal (MAHNTSH-mall) meaning "sometimes." As in, Manchmal Deutsch ist ein Herausfordnerung. Sometimes I find myself sitting on the subway murmuring manchmal, manchmal... it just feels good!

And if you can't enjoy a new language (Voolay voo, anyone?), what's the point?

Foolish and Proud (Töricht und Stolz)

On the Bridge between Knowing Nothing and Knowing Everything

Today I am Working my version of Step 7: We humbly asked our Higher Power to help us with the process of becoming citizens of another country, and to ask for and accept help when we needed it.

So, here I am, living in Munich, and teaching myself to speak German (from now on I'll try to refer to it as Deutsch) with the help of various computer programs that basically do a call-and-repeat approach to language learning. Here's the picture of the horse. What is it? It is das Pferd (remember to voice that P!). A few pictures later, here's the picture of the horse. What is it? Oh right, der Pferd. Whoops, DAS Pferd.

(Deutsch doesn't just have an equivalent of "the" before a noun. It has one of three: der, die, or das. With no discernable logic for any of them. Oh yeah, and then there's the plurals...)

It's not so different from the best of my real-time interactions with helpful Bavarians. At the shop I point to the vegetables and say "Gomuse" and the clerk/friend/stranger says "Go-mew-zuh" and I say "Go-mooze" and they say "Go-mew-zuh" and I say "Go-mewze" and they say "Go-mewz-UH" and finally I say "Guh-MEWZ-uh"! And we all smile in relief. And then I say "die Guh-MEWZ-uh" and they say, "Nein, DAS Gemüse," and so it goes.

Mix and repeat 100 times a day.

No matter how much I want to remember these words, they do not stick in my brain UNLESS I connect them to an already-existing item in that same grey zone. I can remember the (rather unusual) term for a bicycle-mounted public comment box because I'm a bike nut AND it tickled my fancy just to see it: der Fahrrad-Wünschkästen. I mean, who doesn't want one of those things?

A Bicycle Public Comment Box, of course!

But John has to remind me over and over again that einfang does not mean simple: einfach does. It's just not sticking. It's just not that einfach. (Ah, that'll do it!)

Again, mix and repeat 100 times a day.