tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4062328084325142622024-03-14T01:39:49.330-07:00Ich wohne in Deutschland - Expat Adventures Living in the VaterlandA reflection of my experiences living in Germany over the last 10 years. Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03767762944913796749noreply@blogger.comBlogger42125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-406232808432514262.post-76596703992028043752013-05-14T01:11:00.005-07:002013-05-14T01:12:32.584-07:00Medical insurance problem. Help!<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><span style="color: #444444;">Today’s
blog is a plea to any Germans/expats living in Germany who might be able to
help with a medical insurance issue we are having.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: #444444;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><span style="color: #444444;">Our
daughter was born on January 20<sup>th</sup> and a few days after she was born,
she had to spend a few days in the Uni Klinik. We received and paid the bill
totaling almost 3000 Euros. Obviously both my husband and I are medically
insured and therefore by default our daughter is/should be for this time. Yet
currently all our insurance companies are refusing to pay. Who is responsible
and who should foot the bill?<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><span style="color: #444444;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><span style="color: #444444;">I am
insured with a “gesetzliche Krankenversicherung” (law-enforced national health insurance), and my husband is privately insured. In
Germany, if one of the parents is privately insured, any children also have to
be. We therefore took out a private insurance for our daughter with a private
insurance company where I have a so-called “Zusatzversicherung” (private supplementary
insurance).I understood as long as you did this within two months of the child
being born, your child is covered at all times from birth. The insurance
company, however, would only insure her from February 1<sup>st</sup>, thus
conventiently missing those crucial days in between and a bill of thousands of
Euros! We could, of course, have insured her automatically with my husband, but
he has had a lot of problems with his insurance company, so we chose not to. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><span style="color: #444444;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><span style="color: #444444;">We sent the
bill to all three insurance companies, but so far all three are refusing to pay. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><span style="color: #444444;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><span style="color: #444444;">If anyone
has any experience with this or any idea what to do next, please get in touch!</span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03767762944913796749noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-406232808432514262.post-34275694163290596132013-05-13T04:22:00.001-07:002013-05-13T04:22:10.913-07:00Monday morning blues<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: #666666;">My Monday
morning actually started well; we all slept until 8am and my toddler willingly let
me dress her and she ate her muesli and drank her milk with no fuss.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: #666666;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: #666666;">Then it all
went horribly wrong. I made the mistake of letting my toddler watch some
cartoons as bribery for getting her to the bathroom to brush her teeth and to
keep the peace while dealing with a sick, snotty, crying baby. Toddler then of
course refused to turn off said cartoons and howled as I put her shoes and jacket
on to go downstairs to the car.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: #666666;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><span style="color: #666666;">It was
bucketing down with rain outside. Yes, it’s May and it’s still raining. My rain
jacket was in the car. I struggled down three flights of stairs; crying baby in
one arm and stroppy toddler in the other, refusing to walk, because her sister
was being carried. We made a mad dash for the car, but we all still got soaking
wet.</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><span style="color: #666666;">Screaming
baby and sulky toddler in the back, I then hit the motorway just in time for
rush hour; traffic was heavy and people drive oh so very badly in the pouring
rain. As if that wasn’t bad enough, Radio Regenbogen announced that the RNV
(transport network) here in Heidelberg was striking today, so there was a huge
traffic jam to enter Heidelberg. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><span style="color: #666666;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><span style="color: #666666;">At this
point, running late for both nursery drop off and the doctor’s appointment for
sick baby afterwards, I finally arrived outside the nursery to find no parking.
Thank you very much striking bus drivers and rain. I parked what seemed like
miles away and yet again, my toddler refused to walk. Toddler in one arm, heavy
car seat and baby in other, we walked to nursery in the pouring rain. Toddler then conveniently decided she didn’t want
to go to nursery today and refused to enter. After some more kicking and
screaming, I eventually coaxed her in and sick, screaming baby and I braved the
rain again and drove to the doctor’s. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><span style="color: #666666;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><span style="color: #666666;">My Monday morning
blues continued. There was no parking outside the doctor’s surgery. We entered
the underground parking and had to drive right down to the bottom floor to find
a place. We headed for the lift. The lift was broken. I climbed another three
flights of stairs and finally made it to the doctor’s surgery where I had to immediately
perform an emergency feed and nappy change. The diagnosis: poor sick baby has a
double ear infection and two perforated ear drums. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><span style="color: #666666;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><span style="color: #666666;">Here’s
hoping for a better afternoon! </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03767762944913796749noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-406232808432514262.post-20105246685027088722013-03-24T11:43:00.000-07:002013-03-24T11:43:51.950-07:00Nationality nightmares<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><span style="color: #444444;">Never in a
million years did I ever think I would hear myself saying that I wish our
daughters had rights to German citizenship. I was always more than adamant that they should be British and Spanish; just
like us. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><span style="color: #444444;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><span style="color: #444444;">As a
family, we are very much citizens of Europe. I am a British citizen (to one
Scottish and one English parent), born in Belgium. My husband is a Spanish
citizen, born in Spain. Our daughters were both born in Germany. I assumed that,
by default, our children would both be entitled to all three nationalities and be
able to choose their preferred European nationality at the age of 18. How wrong
was I!<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><span style="color: #444444;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><span style="color: #444444;">Our
daughters, despite being born in Germany, are not entitled to the German
nationality. German nationality law is based on jus sanguinis. Citizenship is
not determined by place of birth in this case, but by having one or both
parents who are citizens of the German nation. You can naturalise as a German
citizen if you have been resident in Germany for at least eight years and possess
adequate knowledge of German, etc. Only then, after renouncing to your existing
nationality (Germany does not allow dual nationality, can both you, your spouse
and your children apply for citizenship. This contrasts with jus solis: right
of soil, which is applicable in the UK, meaning you are automatically entitled
to British citizenship if you were born there. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><span style="color: #444444;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><span style="color: #444444;">Neither my
husband nor I have been living for eight consecutive years in Germany, so
getting our hands on German passports for ourselves or our children is a no go.
No problem, we thought. When our first daughter was born, we got her a Spanish
passport. My husband would say this was by choice; I say it was because it was
cheap! Registration and a new Spanish passport at the time cost a mere 16
Euros. British registration and passport on the other hand was going to cost a
massive 300 Euros. The process was quick and efficient and we had the passport
within a month of our first daughter’s birth. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><span style="color: #444444;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><span style="color: #444444;">Two years
on with the birth of our second daughter, we wrongly assumed the process would
be similar. We not only need a new passport for our newborn, but a passport
renewal for our older daughter, whose passport has run out after two years. My
husband phoned the Spanish consulate to get an appointment to apply for the
passports. The earliest date he was offered was the end of May and the passports
would then arrive in July sometime. Due to the crisis and cuts, the process now
takes 4 months! This obviously isn’t really an issue if you don’t want to
travel, but we want to go to the UK before July and we planned to fly to Spain.
<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><span style="color: #444444;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><span style="color: #444444;">No problem,
we thought, third time lucky, we’ll just apply for the British one instead. I
phoned the consulate in Düsseldorf and was referred to the UK Border Agency. I
then found out just how complicated British nationality law is. Because I was
born abroad, I got my British citizenship by descent. This type of citizenship
cannot be passed down to your children when they are also born abroad. My
daughters therefore have to apply for British citizenship and be accepted
before any passport can be issued; a process which takes around 4 months. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><span style="color: #444444;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><span style="color: #444444;">So,
ironically, despite theoretically being entitled to three different European
nationalities, two of the countries have rejected us and the third won’t give
us a passport until the middle of the year. Luckily there is a (painful) solution
and that is to drive 16 hours to where my husband was last resident in Spain
and apply for the DNI (Spanish ID cards) which allow travel within Europe.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><span style="color: #444444;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><span style="color: #444444;">I am left with
a couple of open questions. What would have happened if my husband had also
been born abroad; would my children be stateless within a “united” Europe? Are
all three nationalities really equal at the end of the day or does one give you
more rights than the other? Perhaps the answers lie in an independent Scotland.
Forget about Germany, Spain, and Great Britain. Forget about Europe. Vote Yes Scotland, and become Scottish instead! </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03767762944913796749noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-406232808432514262.post-44850436733327953852013-01-16T02:52:00.000-08:002013-01-16T05:03:04.171-08:00Thank you, Frau Merkel<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><span style="color: #666666;">I am due to
give birth to my second child at any moment now, so it seems like an
appropriate time to 1. Blog while I still have the time and 2. Thank Frau
Merkel for giving me some (paid) time off work in order to look after my
newborn. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><span style="color: #666666;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><span style="color: #666666;">Since
coming to power, Merkel has been focused on Germany’s low birth rate, which
stands at 1.3 children per woman (the replacement rate should ideally be 2.1).
Figures show that a third of German women are not having children and among
graduates the figure is as high as 40% (Merkel herself included!) Perhaps this
is due to the fact that University in Germany takes so long to complete – the
average German student is in their late twenties by the time they finish, so
finding a job and establishing a career take priority. Also, German society
still very much expects women to stay at home to look after their family. Housewives
get medical insurance through their working husbands and husbands, in turn,
enjoy tax advantages for having wives without jobs. Childcare is inadequate and
expensive. There is even a term in German for those bad, uncaring mums who
selfishly return to work – “Rabenmutter” (raven mother).<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><span style="color: #666666;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><span style="color: #666666;">In Germany,
the allowances for maternity and parental leave are fantastic. The monetary
benefits are good, but not really much different to other countries if you
consider that we pay around 48% tax and expect some return on our money. The
best thing is the time and the protection you are given. Where else can
you take up to 3 years off to look after your child (as a mother OR a father) and
still be guaranteed a job to come back to? <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><span style="color: #666666;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><span style="color: #666666;">Every woman
is basically entitled to 6 weeks before the birth and 8 weeks after the birth
on full pay (the so-called “Mutterschutz” maternity leave). After that, mothers
and fathers can take 14 months PAID “Elternzeit” (parental leave) and choose
how to split the months between them. During this time, you receive 65% of your
basic net salary, but no more than 1800 Euros in total (the so-called "Elterngeld"). Even if you haven’t
been working, you are still entitled to at least 300 Euros pay during the first
14 months. In total, mothers and fathers can take up to 3 years UNPAID parental
leave and can even split the parental leave period into two – deferring one
year of time up until the child’s sixth birthday. The flexibility is amazing,
particularly for fathers. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><span style="color: #666666;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><span style="color: #666666;">And I’m
still not finished…<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><span style="color: #666666;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><span style="color: #666666;">If you have
two children under the age of three, you are paid a “Geschwisterbonus” (sibling
bonus) of 150 Euros net a month. Every child is also paid 180 Euros “Kindergeld”
(child benefit) until the age of 18, regardless of income.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><span style="color: #666666;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><span style="color: #666666;">Are there
any catches? Not really. Just be sure to get all the relevant paperwork filled
out on time – there are separate forms for everything and they take time and patience to fill out. Also, beware that the Elterngeld (14 months pay) counts as household income and the tax
man will catch up with you at the end of the year!<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><span style="color: #666666;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><span style="color: #666666;">Despite all
this time and money being thrown at young families, Merkel's measures paradoxically haven't had
much effect on the birth rate and have simply cost the government millions.
There is now talk of scrapping the parental leave. But, luckily this won’t
affect me and so, vielen Dank, Frau Merkel, for what is my second round of
German maternity/parental leave!</span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03767762944913796749noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-406232808432514262.post-14085469051930702102013-01-15T05:34:00.001-08:002013-01-15T05:36:25.137-08:00Hausschuhe!<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><span style="color: #666666;">Walk into the front door of any German house and you will be confronted with shoes. Shoes,
shoes, and more shoes. Shelves with shoes of all kinds; Birkenstocks, Jack
Wolfskin hiking boots, trainers, and of course, the essential Hausschuhe – or house
shoes. More often than not, there is no space inside a German flat for all the
shoes required, so they tend to overspill into the communal corridor outside
the flat. Yes, you will often see shelves all the way up to the ceiling in corridors
stacked with shoes. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><span style="color: #666666;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><span style="color: #666666;">In Germany,
it is of utmost importance to have the right kind of shoes for the right kind
of weather. Be prepared, be sensible, be practical. A requirement at my
daughter’s nursery, for example, is that she has her “Gummistiefel” (welly
boots), her winter boots, and her Hausschuhe with her on a daily basis and I
see the advantages – for one, the weather here is extremely unpredictable, so
it is always best to have the different options at hand. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><span style="color: #666666;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><span style="color: #666666;">Hausschuhe
are indeed perhaps the most practical of shoes I have ever come across. The
concept makes complete sense; you get home, take off your outdoor shoes and put
on your indoor ones. I like the concept of going round to other people’s houses
and respecting their home by taking your shoes off (although it does require a
certain amount of forward planning with regard to wearing clean, matching,
non-holey socks). Hausschuhe keep your feet warm in the winter and the floors
clean. Many Germans opt for the Birkenstock variety, but you can basically
choose what you want as long as you have a designated pair of house shoes that
you, under no circumstances, wear outside. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><span style="color: #666666;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><span style="color: #666666;">My daughter’s
first pair of Hausschuhe were bright pink and had little glittery butterflies
on them – they were so cute that all the other children in the nursery wanted
to touch them and take them off, making her very possessive of and, dare I say,
obsessed with her house shoes. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><span style="color: #666666;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><span style="color: #666666;">I will
never forget the time I came home from my pilates class and walked into her
bedroom with my trainers on. She was sitting on her changing table reading a
bedtime story with her Daddy. She immediately stopped what she was doing, looked
down at my feet, pointed, and said “Hausschuhe!” I didn’t know until then that
the word existed in her vocabulary. The mere fact that the word Hausschuhe was the
second word I had ever heard her utter in German, second only to “nein”, highlights
the importance of house shoes in German society. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><span style="color: #666666;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><span style="color: #666666;">Walk into
our house these days and don’t expect to be greeted with a hello, cuddle or a
kiss. If you dare walk past the shelf of shoes in the house (yes, we have one,
too) with your outdoor shoes on, be prepared for a little voice to pipe up: “Hausschuhe!” </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03767762944913796749noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-406232808432514262.post-3805895972241904312012-12-24T05:40:00.000-08:002012-12-29T11:57:33.544-08:00A brief hiatus<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: #444444;">Some of you
may have noticed I have been MIA over the past few weeks. Highland Nomad has been
very busy moving house and is now installed in the suburbs of Heidelberg (something
I swore I would never, ever do) – in an exciting place called Walldorf. You
have all heard of Walldorf, right?! Just in case you haven’t, Walldorf is
famous for headquartering the world’s fourth largest software company, and
is also the birthplace of John Jacob Astor, creator of the Waldorf-Astoria
Hotel and the Waldorf salad. It seems a very quiet and civilized little
community, although it is hard to tell as it’s been snowing and very cold since
moving here and most Germans tend to hibernate during the winter months anyway.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: #444444;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><span style="color: #444444;">Speaking of
hibernation, I went round to say goodbye to our next door neighbours in Heidelberg
the other day and they said how they had
been meaning to invite us over and return our invitation (they came over for
drinks two years ago), had “somehow” not got round to doing so (yes, yes,
whatever), but that we should organise something for the summer. What is wrong
with winter? Kaffee and Kuchen anyone? My guess is we’ll never see them again. It
reminded me of other German “friends” of ours, who came over for our daughter’s
birthday in January. Upon leaving, they said “see you next year then!” It’s a
concept of friendship that I will never understand. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><span style="color: #444444;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><span style="color: #444444;">Back to
moving house. Moving house is stressful at the best of times, wherever you live
and whatever your circumstances. It becomes even more stressful at 8 months
pregnant with a tantrum-throwing-two-year-old-Tochter. Anyway, the week of our move kicked off with
the arrival of two bills. The first one: a yearly tax bill for 700 Euros. It
turns out that no matter at which point during the year you sell your flat in
Germany, be it January or December, you are still liable for paying the
property tax and then claiming this back from the new owners (if you can be
bothered with the hassle and probably ensuing court-case battle, that is).
Luckily, in our case, this only meant paying one extra month, so Highland Nomad
remained calm. The second: a bill for 100 Euros from the Hausverwaltung (house
management company) for the role they played in in selling our property. Come
again? I did phone up to query what they actually did, but apparently, as
always, this is documented somewhere in some contract in the tiniest, tiniest of
prints. Highland Nomad huffed a bit and reluctantly paid. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><span style="color: #444444;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><span style="color: #444444;">Next, a phone
call from our removal company to say that they could not move us in as planned
on Friday, because of the Christmas markets and Walldorf town council would not
permit trucks to park in the main street. Our stuff was then loaded on Friday,
kept in storage for the weekend, and unloaded on Monday. Picture the coldest
weekend of the year so far, with snow, and us “camping” in our new flat over
the weekend. It turned out we could have stayed in the old flat over the
weekend, because our buyers “forgot” to transfer a third of the money. Not to worry, we thought, this is why we
paid an estate agent and a notary thousands of Euros to step in and help us
out. No, silly me, once the sale has gone through, the estate agent has no
further interest in you or your property. The notary was also unwilling to act
on our behalf, so it was up to us to summon our most polite, but to-the-point
German and phone the buyers and deal with the bank and interest payments
resulting in the late payment. In the meantime, we were dealing with a handover
for our new rental accommodation in Walldorf. The family left rubbish in the
cellar and even lost one of the front door keys. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><span style="color: #444444;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><span style="color: #444444;">Things
could definitely only get better. So, once our belongings arrived on Monday and
we handed over our old flat on Tuesday, Highland Nomad could finally put her
feet up with a cup of tea (wishing it was something a LOT stronger) to
celebrate her relief that it was all over (apart from the unpacking), at no
longer being a homeowner in Germany and revel in the prospect of never having
to attend another Eigentümerversammlung (homeowner’s annual meeting) again in her
life. </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03767762944913796749noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-406232808432514262.post-75611143220548079072012-11-26T01:07:00.000-08:002012-11-26T01:07:34.753-08:00Find the chickpeas!<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><span style="color: #444444;">There are
an endless number of variations to the “Find the chickpeas” game in Germany. You
can replace “chickpeas” with basically anything you are looking to find in a supermarket,
or any shop for that matter. The aim of the game is to find what you are looking
for; in my case this morning: chickpeas! There is no limit on the number of
players, but the game does require patience and time. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><span style="color: #444444;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><span style="color: #444444;">My husband
and I love curries, so I decided to make a chickpea curry for dinner this
evening. For the recipe, I needed two tins of chickpeas. Being pushed for time
(I had 20 minutes to shop before my husband had to leave for the airport), I
decided to brave the Kaufland supermarket, because in Kaufland I know exactly
where to find the chickpeas. Today, however, there wasn’t a chickpea in sight;
just an empty shelf where the chickpeas should have been. My curry dinner at
stake; the challenge was on. I had to
find the chickpeas.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><span style="color: #444444;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><span style="color: #444444;">Let the game
begin!<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><span style="color: #444444;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><span style="color: #444444;">I was
convinced there must be someone in the shop, who knew where the chickpeas were.
So, the aim of the game was to find a shop assistant, who was 1, willing to
help and 2, actually could help.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><span style="color: #444444;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><span style="color: #444444;">I knew this
wasn’t going to be an easy task, but I was full of energy and up for the
challenge. It took me a while to locate some uniformed workers. Finally, in the
fruit and vegetables section, I saw two ladies deep in conversation. I
approached at my own peril, knowing full well that normally I should allow the
conversation to finish before daring to interrupt. But, under time pressure, I approached
with caution and politely asked for help. “That is not our section. Go to the lady
around the corner.” <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><span style="color: #444444;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><span style="color: #444444;">I giggled
to myself; this is all part of the fun. Off I headed, in search of the lady
around the corner; not sure around which corner, but again, deciphering cryptic
clues is all part of the fun. I found her in the cereal section. She looked
friendly and at least stopped what she was doing to hear my question. I
realized by her hesitant, broken German that she was a foreigner, too, and didn’t
have a clue what I was saying or what a “Kirchererbse” (chickpea) was. A dead
end after all. But not to worry; it’s still all just part of the game. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><span style="color: #444444;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><span style="color: #444444;">My spirits
still high, off I went in search of another employee. I found her in the
toiletries section. She stopped what she was doing AND she understood the word
chickpea. “I don’t know where to find them, but wait a minute.” Off she went
and came back with a male co-worker, dressed in a shirt and tie. I had struck
gold! He was clearly some kind of floor manager. He informed me that they weren’t
stocking their usual brand of chickpeas at the moment. My heart sunk. “But,
come with me,” he said, “there are other brands.” Sure enough, it turned out I
only had to look behind some tins of green beans and hey presto, there they
were – the chickpeas! Game completed in a record 10 minutes! <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><span style="color: #444444;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><span style="color: #444444;">And so that’s
how you play “Find the chickpeas.” Like I said, it’s a very versatile game and
can be applied to just about any shop in Germany. Give it a try for yourself;
you’ll be amazed at how much fun you can have!</span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03767762944913796749noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-406232808432514262.post-28014530285275847262012-11-20T03:57:00.000-08:002012-11-20T03:59:01.832-08:00The stove bonus<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><span style="color: #666666;">It’s
official! As of next year, the German government is introducing „Betreuungsgeld:“
a child-care subsidy, known to critics as the „Herdprämie“ (stove bonus).
Parents, who choose to take care of their children at home will be entitled to
100 Euros per month in 2013 and as of 2014, 150 Euros per month from the
child’s second birthday onwards. Its introduction is highly controversial and
has been greatly disputed in Germany; opinion polls, in fact, show that most
Germans are actually against it.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><span style="color: #666666;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><span style="color: #666666;">Where do I
stand? Does it even make sense to go back to work or should I stay at home in
front of the stove; which is, contentiously, what the German government seems
to be encouraging? As a part-time working mother, with no grandparents nearby and
whose distribution of working hours means forking out for a full-time nursery
place for her child with a 2<sup>nd</sup> on its way; it is certainly food for
thought. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><span style="color: #666666;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><span style="color: #666666;">On the face
of it, 150 Euros per month per child doesn’t seem like much and ultimately not
enough to be worth sacrificing even your part-time salary over; 150 Euros certainly
isn’t going to pay the rent. That’s what I thought until my husband did the maths.
Say you work 75%, earning the “average” German salary: 1050 Euros a month. Once
you have paid for two full-time nursery places at 500 Euros each, your salary
is already gone. If you choose not to work and stay at home to look after your
two children, you would be “earning” 1300 Euros by saving the nursery fees AND receiving
the child-care subsidy on top. Crazy but
true. Obviously this doesn’t apply if you are a high-earner and also fails to
take into account pension allowance and other benefits. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><span style="color: #666666;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><span style="color: #666666;">It remains
to be seen what kind of effect this new subsidy will have in Germany,
particularly at a time when there is a severe shortage of nursery places. In
Scandinavia, where an even higher child-care subsidy is paid, statistics show
that mothers have been discouraged from returning to work, especially those who
worked or would work part-time. The
statistics there also show that a high percentage of people claiming the
benefit are immigrants; arguably those who would benefit the most from
integrating their children into schools to learn the language from a young age.
<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><span style="color: #666666;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><span style="color: #666666;">Personally,
I still think that the two billion Euros, which is the estimated cost of the
new subsidy, would be better spent investing in providing more nursery places
for 1-3 year olds. My priority as a working mum will always be spending as much
time as possible with my daughter, but I also value having the opportunity to
be able to maintain my career; even if only part-time.</span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03767762944913796749noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-406232808432514262.post-58732083562572492062012-11-13T10:51:00.000-08:002012-11-13T10:51:55.190-08:00It’s official; I am un-officially German<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">Just for
the record, no, I haven’t given up my British nationality. And no, I haven’t
acquired a German passport. But at the weekend I did do something that makes me
OUG (Officially Unofficially German).<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">In my
books, there are a number of things that one has to have accomplished before
one can, hand on heart, lay claim to the OUG status. Here is my top 10, in no
particular order:<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpFirst" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -18.0pt;">
<!--[if !supportLists]--><span lang="EN-US">-<span style="font-size: 7pt;"> </span></span><span lang="EN-US" style="text-indent: -18pt;">Go
on holiday to the Ostsee</span></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -18.0pt;">
<!--[if !supportLists]--><span lang="EN-US">-<span style="font-size: 7pt;">
</span></span><!--[endif]--><span lang="EN-US">Eat
ice-cream in mid-winter<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -18.0pt;">
<!--[if !supportLists]--><span lang="EN-US">-<span style="font-size: 7pt;">
</span></span><!--[endif]--><span lang="EN-US">Keep
a supply of “Apfelsaftschorle” (apple juice spritzer) in your kitchen cupboard<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -18.0pt;">
<!--[if !supportLists]--><span lang="EN-US">-<span style="font-size: 7pt;">
</span></span><!--[endif]--><span lang="EN-US">Call
your child “kleine Maus”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -18.0pt;">
<!--[if !supportLists]--><span lang="EN-US">-<span style="font-size: 7pt;">
</span></span><!--[endif]--><span lang="EN-US">Drive
at speeds of 180km per hour on the Autobahn<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -18.0pt;">
<!--[if !supportLists]--><span lang="EN-US">-<span style="font-size: 7pt;">
</span></span><!--[endif]--><span lang="EN-US">Partake
in a naked sauna<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -18.0pt;">
<!--[if !supportLists]--><span lang="EN-US">-<span style="font-size: 7pt;">
</span></span><!--[endif]--><span lang="EN-US">Say
“Mahlzeit”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -18.0pt;">
<!--[if !supportLists]--><span lang="EN-US">-<span style="font-size: 7pt;">
</span></span><!--[endif]--><span lang="EN-US">Only
buy German cars and kitchen appliances<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -18.0pt;">
<!--[if !supportLists]--><span lang="EN-US">-<span style="font-size: 7pt;">
</span></span><!--[endif]--><span lang="EN-US">Throw
a dinner party and ask each guest to bring a course<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpLast" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -18.0pt;">
<!--[if !supportLists]--><span lang="EN-US">-<span style="font-size: 7pt;">
</span></span><!--[endif]--><span lang="EN-US">Shop
for Aldi “Angebote” (special offers) for children<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpLast" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -18.0pt;">
<span lang="EN-US"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">If, in
addition to these 10, you also own a Jack Wolfskin jacket and regularly enjoy a
“Kaffee und Kuchen” (coffee and cake), you should definitely consider changing
your nationality. The only one remaining on my list until last weekend was
shopping for Aldi offers for children. And I would quickly like to point out
that I do not own a Jack Wolfskin jacket, so no imminent changes of nationality
for me.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">The Germans
are a nation of bargain-hunters and you will often find them checking the
weekly offers in Aldi and rushing down before opening to make sure they get
what they want. Last week, for example, the offer was a range of ski equipment
for children. I honestly didn’t expect anything to be left by the weekend, but
I rummaged around, as you do, to find a pair of ski trousers and snow boots for
7.99 and 9.99 Euros respectively. I have my doubts about the quality, but at
that price, and given how quickly children grow out of clothes and shoes
anyway, I figured I would give it a go to see what all the fuss is about. Many
ladies in my office swear by Aldi offers, so there must be something in it. Watch
this space!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03767762944913796749noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-406232808432514262.post-26898659418703098532012-11-11T10:33:00.000-08:002012-11-11T10:33:40.821-08:00Everything is forbidden; apart from that, do what you like<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: #444444;">“Hey, das ist hier keine Strasse!” <span lang="EN-US">(„Hey, this isn’t a street!”)<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: #444444;"><span lang="EN-US"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><span style="color: #444444;">These
precise words were shouted at me last Friday by a worker at a local company as
I cut a corner on my bike through the company’s property. For the record, the
street is open, there are no “no entry” signs and everyone uses it. But, of
course, in Germany, a rule is a rule, even if it’s unwritten, and ze rules must
not be broken. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><span style="color: #444444;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><span style="color: #444444;">There are
so many quirky rules here that I just don’t know where to start. I suppose the
fact that I now think of so many of these rules as completely normal bears testimony
to how Germanised (“eingedeutscht”) I have become. For example, a “quiet” time (“Ruhezeit”) must
be observed between noon and 3pm, after 9pm every evening and all day on a
Sunday during which it is forbidden to mow the lawn, wash cars, play loud
music, hammer nails, drill, etc. No playing at playgrounds is allowed during
the Ruhezeit or after 8pm. I even read once that it’s forbidden to hang out
your washing on a Sunday (although nothing has ever happened to me for doing
that yet!) There are also lots of rules on rubbish and rubbish sorting – but
more on that in another blog.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><span style="color: #444444;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><span style="color: #444444;">While out
and about, be sure to observe pedestrian zones, cycle paths, cycle down the
right side of the road and never on the pathway. Make sure you give way to the
right when you are not on a main road. Accelerate off quickly at traffic lights
– if you don’t move fast enough, you will be tooted at. If you are breaking a
rule or doing something wrong, you will be told. I was once shouted at for
parking on the street outside my flat even though I was only unloading my
shopping; I was still blocking the pathway for pedestrians. One of the funniest
occasions was when my husband was told off for parking up on the curb near the
nursery while he waited for me to fetch our daughter, because there were no
other places to park. He pulled away, only to see the driver who had complained
in the first place move straight into his spot afterwards!<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><span style="color: #444444;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><span style="color: #444444;">Also,
beware that people are watching you; waiting for their chance to report you to
the police if they see anything suspicious or think you are breaking the rules.
You will sometimes see a face suddenly appear from behind a curtain, mostly
elderly faces, watching the comings and goings. The window will then open and
they will even just ask you what you are doing (this happened a few times when
I was looking for flats and waiting outside for the estate agents to show me
around). Somebody once reported a friend of mine to the police for practicing
her driving illegally in an empty parking lot. She was fined. Another friend
got a phone call from the police to say that someone had reported her
scratching another car and driving off without reporting it. My husband’s
friend got caught accidentally dropping a piece of paper while taking his
rubbish out. Unfortunately, it was a receipt with his card details on it.
Someone must have phoned the police, who promptly turned up at his house to
give him his fine. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><span style="color: #444444;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><span style="color: #444444;">You have
been warned!</span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03767762944913796749noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-406232808432514262.post-44717354555698459242012-11-07T01:02:00.000-08:002012-11-07T01:02:07.535-08:00A breath of fresh air<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><span style="color: #444444;">When I get
into work in the morning, I often leave the windows wide open to let some clean
air in, particularly if, like today, the sun is shining. There is nothing
better than a bit of “Stoßlüften” (hardcore airing) to get rid of any lingering
body odour from the day before and to enjoy the smell of fresh air before the
influx of colleagues, who take their shoes off and put their Birkenstock
sandals on (which they have permanently stored under their desks). Once this
has occurred, you know you have had it; the smell of foosty feet once again gradually
starts to penetrate the whole corridor. </span></span><span style="color: #444444;">I then
leave the windows on tilt, knowing that if I’m lucky, I’ll be able to fully open
the windows again when they all disappear for lunch at 11.15am.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: #444444;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><span style="color: #444444;">This
morning, my colleague arrived and I could see the look of horror in her eyes as
she caught sight of the dreaded tilted windows. She told me that she had to
close them immediately; at the weekend she had slept with the window open and
caught a draft: “ich habe mir einen Zug geholt.” (literally I got myself a
train) She’s now apparently fighting off a cold and her son also can’t stop
coughing. She has since then told this story to at least another two friends on
the phone this morning. I’m just surprised that she is actually in the office.
Normally these kind of deadly breezes knock the Germans into their sick bed for
days. They can also cause all types of problems with your “Kreislauf”
(circulation) and much, much more.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><span style="color: #444444;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><span style="color: #444444;">Yes,
believe it or not, fresh air is dangerous. All windows (whether in the office, in the
car, on the train, etc.) must therefore be shut and the fresh air kept outside where
it belongs. “Es zieht!” (it’s drafty!”) is a phrase that you will hear a lot in
Germany. Germans paradoxically love the outdoors and fresh air while enjoying
an outdoors activity is considered healthy; just don’t allow the fresh air to
creep indoors. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><span style="color: #444444;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><span style="color: #444444;">Perhaps
this is why the concept of (evil) air conditioning has never really taken off
over here, despite hot summers. It can get up to 40 degrees Celsius and so on
some days the atmosphere in my office is unbearable; imagine sweaty, sticky,
smelly bodies and colleagues, who still insist on taking their shoes off. </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03767762944913796749noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-406232808432514262.post-74270551814751905642012-11-05T00:46:00.000-08:002012-11-05T00:46:26.895-08:00The childcare challenge<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><span style="color: #444444;">"So, have
you signed your child up for nursery yet?"<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><span style="color: #444444;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><span style="color: #444444;">At 7 months
pregnant with my first child, I literally almost fell off my chair when a
friend asked me this question. Say what? No, not yet, I am more concerned about
buying cots, car seats, cute outfits, and first and foremost, getting this big baby
out of my belly. Plus I don’t plan on
going back to work for a whole year, so surely that gives me enough time to
think about childcare options.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><span style="color: #444444;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><span style="color: #444444;">“No, really,
you have to sign up now and you have to sign up to all of them to secure even
the remotest chance of a place. There are waiting lists of at least a year in
all nurseries in the Heidelberg area.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><span style="color: #444444;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><span style="color: #444444;">It turned
out she had signed her daughter up when she was only 3 months pregnant. For
goodness sake, your child has barely been conceived, you definitely aren’t
showing yet and you have probably only just started to tell everyone you are
pregnant. Are you insane?<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><span style="color: #444444;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><span style="color: #444444;">Of course,
when you are told something like this, you start to think, worry, and panic
inevitably kicks in. I definitely want to go back to work, so I need one of
those places. One of those places is MINE. I went on the Internet and wrote
down a list of all nurseries and their phone numbers. I proceeded to phone them
all and get my name on every waiting list there was – for the full day,
morning, afternoon, extended morning spots, you name it, I signed up for it. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><span style="color: #444444;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><span style="color: #444444;">In doing
so, I also tried to find out what my chances were like; still convinced that my
friend must be overreacting and exaggerating the entire situation. After being
told by several that I was number 150 + on the waiting list or that they
couldn’t tell me, because of data protection, or that they generally only give six
weeks’ notice if a place becomes available, I finally understood what she was
talking about. How are you supposed to explain that to your boss? It seemed
hopeless - what a nightmare.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><span style="color: #444444;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><span style="color: #444444;">Luckily my
company offers a limited number of nursery places in the area and I was
fortunate to be given one. This saved me from the fate of other friends, who out
of sheer desperation, were forced to literally beg the nurseries for a place by
phoning incessantly, praising the nursery staff and facilities; basically doing
whatever it took to get one of the sought-after spots. I never took my name off
any of the lists and believe it or not, at the time I went back to work, I
hadn’t received a single phone call from a nursery to offer me a place. It was
only 3 or 4 months later that I was finally offered a few places directly from
the nurseries themselves. I know it’s much easier in Spain – imagine the luxury
of actually being able to choose which nursery you think is most suitable for
your child. I have no idea what the situation is like in the UK. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><span style="color: #444444;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><span style="color: #444444;">I fell off
my chair again when I found out how much the nursery was going to cost me.
There are, of course, state-funded nurseries (but only for single parents,
people on income support, etc.), otherwise, you have to pay for a privately-run
one. For a full-time spot from 7.30am – 6pm, you are looking at paying between
500 and 1000 Euros (nearer the 1000) per month. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><span style="color: #444444;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><span style="color: #444444;">Given that
in 2011, the average gross salary in Germany was 28,300 Euros (according to the
Bundesministerium der Finanzen), it is no wonder that many German mothers don’t
go back to work, because they simply can’t afford the childcare. Take off
roughly 40% tax from this amount, divide this by 12 months and you have a
disposable income of say 1415 Euros per month. No wonder either then, that the
birth rate in Germany is the lowest in Europe; the average person can simply
not afford more than one child, if that. Merkel, however, is on the case, and
plans to provide more nursery places, so that by 2013, every child between the
ages of one and three will have the right to a place; let’s see if she also
reduces how much they cost.</span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03767762944913796749noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-406232808432514262.post-23690265134202227422012-11-02T02:23:00.000-07:002012-11-02T02:23:45.055-07:00Brutal honesty<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><span style="color: #444444;">Germans
will very often tell you exactly what they think – and be prepared, it isn’t
always what you want to hear. I find it a tricky one to call; on the one hand, I find
it almost refreshing that people don’t beat around the bush and there is no such
thing as the overly polite superficiality that is socially expected in the UK. On
the other hand, the extreme directness and “honesty” here often verges on the
rude and there has been many a time in Germany where I’ve been left gobsmacked,
wishing I had told the person to shut up and mind their own business. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><span style="color: #444444;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><span style="color: #444444;">I’ve
noticed that the Germans are particularly frank when it comes to matters to do
with children. The question is, is this kind of upfront approach for the
greater good of being honest and to help you and your baby or is it just being
rude, overly opinionated and downright nosey? One thing is for sure; if you are
bringing up a child in Germany, you have to quickly develop some thick skin and
learn to appreciate the no-nonsense approach. Either that or it will drive you
mad! <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><span style="color: #444444;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><span style="color: #444444;">In Germany,
it is common for a midwife to visit you every day for the first couple of weeks
that you are home with your first child, which I have to say, is very
reassuring and a great help. However, I vividly remember the first time our
midwife, Ortrud, came to our house and whirl-winded around our home telling us
how wrong the set-up was for our daughter; the changing table should have been in
the bathroom, the cot along an internal wall for extra warmth, etc. We also urgently
needed a “Heizlampe” (heat lamp) for her bedroom, because otherwise she would
get too cold while having her nappy changed. By-the-way, it is usually 21
degrees in our house in mid-winter without the heating on. She also told me I didn’t dress her warmly
enough (quote “du bist soo Englisch!” You are soo English!”) or use enough
blankets and how silly I was for taking her outside for a walk in the freezing
cold mid-January. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><span style="color: #444444;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><span style="color: #444444;">One of the
first times I did venture outside with my daughter, a bike pulled up alongside the
pram. The lady proceeded to tell me that she was a nurse and that the toys
hanging from the pram were too close to my daughter’s eyes and would damage them.
I think I politely thanked her for sharing her wisdom and knowledge with me
(blatantly lying through my teeth and not following her “admirable” honest
approach!)<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><span style="color: #444444;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><span style="color: #444444;">Good
friends of ours, who have since left Germany, were also offered some friendly child
“advice” from their neighbour downstairs.
According to the neighbour, their baby screamed too much. As an “Erzieherin”
(child care worker), she knew when a child was screaming too much and they
should really do something about it (as if they weren’t already trying.) <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><span style="color: #444444;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><span style="color: #444444;">So, my
advice to you all is to grin and bear it. Tell your tale to your other expat
friends, laugh and/or blog about it. Wouldn’t life be boring if everyone were
polite and nice to you the whole time anyway? </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03767762944913796749noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-406232808432514262.post-58600321654302291852012-10-30T08:22:00.000-07:002012-10-30T08:22:46.902-07:00Mahlzeit!<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><span style="color: #444444;">In Germany
there is no such thing as sandwich and crisps for lunch. It is the norm for people
to have a “warme Mahlzeit” (hot meal) slap-bang in the middle of the day. For
supper, they will have “Abendbrot” (literally evening bread), usually eaten
around 6pm and consisting of a few slices of bread, cheese, cold meat, and the
ubiquitous gherkin. It struck me as a bit upside-down to start with and it took
me a while to get used to a heavy meal during my working day and having to
fight off the lethargy that ensued in the afternoon. The idea does grow on you,
though, and it is even apparently healthier than having a big meal in the
evening, because you have all day to work off what you ate.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><span style="color: #444444;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><span style="color: #444444;">A lot of my
colleagues go for lunch at 11.15am on the dot. Just for the record, we are not
talking brunch or mid-morning snack – no - they actually have their hot, three
course, main meal of the day at his time. Preparation starts at 11.10am when
you start to hear people shuffling, putting their jackets on, and then walking
up and down the corridors saying “Mahlzeit,” This is a common expression – a
greeting used around lunch time – to which you answer “Mahlzeit” back. I
suppose it can also loosely be translated as “enjoy your meal.” Other common
expressions used here to indicate the intention of going for lunch and indirectly
asking whether you would like to join are “happie happie,” or “mangiare.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><span style="color: #444444;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><span style="color: #444444;">Why go so
early? I’ve managed to come up with a few logical explanations. Firstly, my
company is full of computer geeks, some of whom start programming at 7am, so,
by 11am half their working day is over and they are understandably hungry. Secondly,
my company also has around 12,000 employees here at its headquarters – that’s
one hell of a lot of lunches – and therefore also very long queues if you
choose your time badly. And thirdly, if there is something popular like “Fleischsalat”
(meat salad) or “Kaiserschmarrn” (pancakes) on the menu for that day, then if
you leave lunch until the more “normal” time of 1pm, there will be nothing left
but reheated noodles from the day before.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><span style="color: #444444;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><span style="color: #444444;">Lunches in
the company are generally good, despite what my husband will tell you (he is
Spanish after all and therefore has higher standards than a Scottish highland
nomad.) There is a big salad bar, a choice of three main courses, including a vegetarian
option, various “Beilagen” (side dishes), and always two puddings to choose
from. Lunch is also a “geldwerter
Vorteil” – a so-called non-cash benefit that you don’t pay for, but that is
taxable. I think it works out as roughly 2 Euros a day, so it’s basically free,
and boy do computer geeks love free things. Trays are always full to the brim
and you will even see people taking extra rolls wrapped in napkins for their
“Abendbrot.” You will also see people stuffing their pockets with bananas and
apples from the fruit bar, and if there is cake or a yummy pudding, you will
see people with stacks of two, three or even four bowls leaving the canteen. No
wonder then that there are never any strawberries left for me when I go at 1pm!
It is also a well-known fact that people have been fired, because they were
caught taking their weekend supplies of salt, pepper, coffee, even toilet
rolls, home with them.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><span style="color: #444444;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><span style="color: #444444;">Lunch in
the company is rarely leisurely. In fact, the main aim is getting the food down
as quickly as possible while exchanging as few words as possible. If there must be conversation, make it about a
current work topic and certainly nothing too personal. I would say it takes the
average person 20 minutes to complete their lunch and so if you go for lunch at
11.15am, followed by a short walk or coffee, you can be back at your desk with a
full belly by midday at the very latest.
At this time, I am still just about starting to contemplate going.
Mahlzeit!</span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03767762944913796749noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-406232808432514262.post-69512991986668036532012-10-25T05:21:00.000-07:002012-10-25T05:21:42.942-07:00Scottish smiles<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><span style="color: #666666;">It has only
taken me 10 years, but on Sunday I finally discovered the secret to somewhat
breaking the ice in Germany. Yes, I inadvertently worked out a way to get
people on the streets to look at me in the eye, smile, laugh, and even stop dead
in their tracks to admire. This really is quite an achievement, believe me. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><span style="color: #666666;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><span style="color: #666666;">Just to
clarify, I wasn’t doing anything to unnecessarily draw attention to myself and
no, I most certainly wasn’t walking along the street in fancy dress, drunk, or
anything like that. So, how did I manage?<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><span style="color: #666666;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><span style="color: #666666;">Well, the
truth be told, it wasn’t actually anything to do with me. On Sunday afternoon we
were invited to our first “proper” children’s birthday party. Dressed for the
occasion, our daughter donned her little Scottish outfit (thanks to Grandma) – a
red tartan dress, white shirt with matching tartan trim on the collar and the
sleeves, matching red hairclip, pretty red cardigan (knitted by her Abu), and
very cute little court shoes. She looked
adorable (ok, I am completely and utterly biased) and understandably stood out
on a Sunday when most children are dressed in their tracksuits and on their way
to the nearest play park. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><span style="color: #666666;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><span style="color: #666666;">I’ve never
seen so many faces light up in such a short period of time. There were smiles
and admiring glances galore on our brief walk through Heidelberg. Clearly I’d
better invest in, or commission some more, dresses and cardigans to cheer up
the citizens of Heidelberg on the dark and gloomy winter days to come!</span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03767762944913796749noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-406232808432514262.post-40555811732795894842012-10-24T00:49:00.000-07:002012-10-24T00:49:22.711-07:00Expat revival<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><span style="color: #444444;">After 10
years in Germany, I like to think that my husband and I are fairly well
integrated into German society. We both started off in Germany with a large
circle of expat friends from our respective countries. Slowly but surely,
however, as is the temporary world of expats, they moved on and left us behind.
Nowadays, we both still have our token British or Spanish expat friend, but
also a lot of German friends and acquaintances. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><span style="color: #444444;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><span style="color: #444444;">Over the
last few weeks though, we have experienced an expat revival. This all started when my husband met another
woman (from Spain) in his pilates class and invited her over – along with her
French husband and two kids. We got along well, so have since been invited over
to their place for two parties, full of expats our age. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><span style="color: #444444;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><span style="color: #444444;">According
to statistics, in December 2011, there were a total of 6.9 million expats
living in Germany – and the figure is rising. Not surprisingly the biggest
group is from Turkey (1.6m) closely followed by Italians and Polish. In Baden
Württemberg, foreign expats make up 1.21m of the 10.74m population. Germany at the moment is particularly
attractive (if you are willing to put up with the somewhat formal and rigid lifestyle
that is). The economy is powerful, unemployment rate is low, the country is interesting
and affordable, the standard of schooling is high, public infrastructure is excellent;
all of which allows us expats to enjoy a high quality of life. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><span style="color: #444444;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><span style="color: #444444;">The expats
we met at the parties were all well- qualified, highly-educated middle to upper
middle class people who left their countries not out of economic necessity, but
rather because of fantastic job offers with high incomes and attractive
relocation packages (school tuition fees paid, etc.) They were all typical
expats in the sense that several personal traits united them; they were all very
open-minded, welcoming, and genuinely interested in meeting new people and
making new friends. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><span style="color: #444444;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><span style="color: #444444;">We thought
we were international. Suddenly, we were plunged into an environment where
mixed marriages were the norm, speaking two languages a necessity, speaking
three or more languages, well, pretty ordinary really. We thought our
trilingual daughter was unique - until we met a 13 year old Mexican girl, who
speaks Spanish, English, German, Chinese and French fluently, because her
father’s company relocates them every four years. I lost count of the number of countries she
has already lived in. Next time I meet her, I must ask her where she calls home
– everywhere? <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><span style="color: #444444;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><span style="color: #444444;">It was fun
to be back in a truly international environment. I don’t think it matters how long you have
lived in a foreign country and how integrated you feel; it’s always refreshing
to meet people in similar situations and share your similar experiences. </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03767762944913796749noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-406232808432514262.post-32754629919151982382012-10-22T06:25:00.000-07:002012-10-22T06:25:31.078-07:00Trilingual Tochter<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><span style="color: #666666;">The
decision to bring our daughter up trilingually was an easy one for us. Having
grown up as a highland nomad, I have always been exposed to different cultures
and languages and believe very strongly that the gift of language is priceless.
It can only make you more open-minded and accepting in the long-term as well as
open doors for your future. We haven’t done any research on the different
approaches and as yet I don’t have any concerns (these, no doubt, will come
later once her language use is more advanced, if we notice weaknesses, if she
refuses to speak one or the other, etc.) Basically, she gets Spanish and
English at home (one parent, one language) and German at nursery. I am hoping that
consistency is the key and, as for the rest, only time will tell!<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><span style="color: #666666;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><span style="color: #666666;">My daughter
is 20 months old and has been attending a German nursery for a year now. She
goes there most days from 9 until around 3.30, sometimes even longer, and seems
to enjoy it (although she can’t speak yet, so still can’t tell me otherwise!)
The only way I have of telling that she is happy is the way she picks up her
shoes in the morning after breakfast, marches to the door and bangs on it until
we are ready to leave. She then runs to the car and once out the other end, pushes
the nursery door open, presses the button on the lift impatiently and then attempts
to sprint all the way down the corridor until she reaches her home for the day
– the Bienchennest (the Little Bee’s House). Once she’s in the room, she
happily turns around to me, gives me her regal wave, says “bye bye” and off she
goes. Not every day is like this, but thank goodness, and touch wood, most are
and will continue to be. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><span style="color: #666666;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><span style="color: #666666;">As I said,
at home I speak to her in English and my husband always speaks to her in
Spanish; but English is the main family language. We have a competition running
on how many words she can say in each and which she will pick up the fastest. I
succumbed to a Spanish passport (it was cheaper than the British one – much cheaper
– we are talking almost 300 Euros cheaper! I’ll resist the jokes about no-one
wanting to be Spanish…), so I am obviously even more determined that she learns
English first. Spanish was definitely in the lead – I think it’s a much easier
language to learn, in terms of the vowel sounds anyway – and she picked up
words like “Hola”, “Gato”, Vaca” and “esto” really quickly. Luckily for me,
however, her British grandparents have just spent the week here, so for the
time being, English is back in pole position. She now happily says words like
bye-bye, hello, car, house, apple, fafafly (butterfly) and papapat (Postman
Pat; her favourite cartoon). <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><span style="color: #666666;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><span style="color: #666666;">The only
German words we knew she said were “Nein”, “Meins” (mine) and “Auto”. The word
“nein” was one of the first words she said in any language – I’m guessing she
needed this to defend herself against the other children in nursery. The
funniest thing was that she also perfected the wagging finger to go along with
it (definitely from nursery as 1. We don’t say “nein” and 2. We don’t finger
wag). <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><span style="color: #666666;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><span style="color: #666666;">We knew
therefore that she spoke the odd word in all three languages and that she understands
mostly everything you say to her or ask her to do in Spanish and English. But
until yesterday we had no clue and to be honest, hadn’t even thought about, how
much German she really understood. We went to pick her up as usual and were
standing at the door waiting for her to finish her drink. One of the group
leaders turned and said to her “Hol bitte dein Oberteil von der Heizung ab!”
(pick up your top from the radiator – so not even the most basic of sentences)
and so off she ran to the radiator, picked up her top, and brought it over to me.
It suddenly dawned on us that our daughter is trilingual…and that it won’t be
long until she understands more German than us!</span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03767762944913796749noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-406232808432514262.post-30385192673108900052012-10-18T06:37:00.002-07:002012-10-18T06:46:14.246-07:00Turn up naked and shop for free!<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 18.0pt;">
<span lang="EN-US"><span style="color: #444444;">How about I give you 270 Euros worth of food shopping
to celebrate and promote the opening of my new supermarket? <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 18.0pt;">
<span lang="EN-US"><span style="color: #444444;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 18.0pt;">
<span lang="EN-US"><span style="color: #444444;">Sounds great, you say, but what’s the catch? <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 18.0pt;">
<span lang="EN-US"><span style="color: #444444;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 18.0pt;">
<span lang="EN-US"><span style="color: #444444;">It’s really simple - the first 100 people to show
up naked and shop naked can take advantage of the special offer!<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 18.0pt;">
<span lang="EN-US"><span style="color: #444444;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 18.0pt;">
<span lang="EN-US"><span style="color: #444444;">This is exactly what happened in Süderlügum, a
town in the North of Germany in June this year. Apparently it was such a hit that the
police had to get involved to control the amount of people entering at any one
time. </span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 18.0pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 18.0pt;">
<span lang="EN-US"><span style="color: #444444;">You don’t believe me?<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 18.0pt;">
<span lang="EN-US"><span style="color: #444444;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 18.0pt;">
<span style="color: #444444;"><span lang="EN-US">Read about it in German in the Bild (and see the pictures!): </span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 18.0pt;">
<span style="color: #444444;"><span lang="EN-US"><a href="http://www.bild.de/news/inland/nackt/gratis-einkauf-wenn-kunden-nackt-kommen-24695332.bild.html">http://www.bild.de/news/inland/nackt/gratis-einkauf-wenn-kunden-nackt-kommen-24695332.bild.html</a></span><span lang="EN-US"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 18.0pt;">
<span style="color: #444444;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 18.0pt;">
<span style="color: #444444;"><span lang="EN-US">Or in
English on ABC news:</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 18.0pt;">
<span style="color: #444444;"><span lang="EN-US"></span><a href="http://abcnews.go.com/blogs/business/2012/06/nude-grocery-shopping-spree-turns-heads/"><span lang="EN-US">http://abcnews.go.com/blogs/business/2012/06/nude-grocery-shopping-spree-turns-heads/</span></a></span><span lang="EN-US"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03767762944913796749noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-406232808432514262.post-14467504236481205412012-10-18T02:19:00.000-07:002012-10-19T11:49:29.280-07:00Food frenzies 2 - queuing <br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><span style="color: #444444;">The
true horror and culture shock kicks in at the checkouts. Queues in supermarkets
here are nearly always long and there are never enough checkouts open. You try
to choose your queue wisely, but you invariably always end up in the slowest
lane. Last week you thought you had made
a good choice of queues, but the two guys in front of you actually divided
their shopping pile into four and paid four times, prolonging your agony. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><span style="color: #444444;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><span style="color: #444444;">After 10
years sufferance, you have learned that there is no time to be British, i.e. polite
and patient at the checkout, or indeed, in any queue, in Germany. You either
push in or get pushed out. Don’t hesitate and whatever you do, don’t leave a
gap between you and the person in front; there will always be someone who tries
to sneak in. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><span style="color: #444444;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><span style="color: #444444;">And that’s
when it happens. The loudspeaker rings and informs you that a new check out is
opening. Again, there is no time to ask
the person in front of you kindly if they would like to go first. No, this is
your one chance to jump the queue and beat everyone else. You ram your shopping
trolley into the new lane as quickly as possible with complete disregard to any
previously existing lines. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><span style="color: #444444;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><span style="color: #444444;">As you load
all your items onto the conveyor belt, you get more and more nervous as you
near your turn at the till. You know you will need to execute every move
perfectly over the next few minutes in order to avoid a long line of angry
Germans (and even grumpier cashier). Bagging areas in Germany are tiny and the
speed at which the ladies at the till work is astonishing. Your items are
whisked through the scanner and you desperately try to pack all your items in keeping
with the cashier’s pace, before you are basically pushed out of the supermarket
by the next customer in line. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><span style="color: #444444;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><span style="color: #444444;">After years
of training, you and your husband have perfected the technique. You no longer fumble
for your EC Karte (bank card) in a sweaty panic while trying to finish the
packing and balancing the remaining items in your hands. You always pay by bank
card these days, as you also know that if you pay by cash you will inevitably be
given change – change that is usually slammed down onto a plastic area near the
till, complicating the process further, as you then have to pick up all the
coins individually and put them back in your purse.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><span style="color: #444444;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><span style="color: #444444;">The
cashier, who hasn’t once looked up, asks you “War alles in Ordnung mit dem
Einkauf?” (was everything ok with your shopping experience), but you can tell
she has no interest in hearing your answer and you often wonder whether she
would even notice if you said no. </span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><span style="color: #444444;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><span style="color: #444444;">And so it is all over for another week. The
weekend can finally begin. </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03767762944913796749noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-406232808432514262.post-10184085308709616192012-10-18T02:15:00.000-07:002012-10-18T02:31:24.331-07:00Food frenzies 1 - shopping<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: inherit;">Finally
it’s the weekend! You wake up on a Saturday morning and don’t have to get up,
jump in the shower, get your daughter ready for nursery, have breakfast and run
out the door to work. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: inherit;">No, far,
far worse than that.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: inherit;">It is
Saturday and Saturday means weekly food shopping day. You and your husband love
food and enjoy cooking, but you both hate your weekly food shop with a passion
(unless you go to France, which you try to do as often as possible). You
won’t find any supermarkets in Germany open on a Sunday, so you have no choice
but to face up to the fact that it’s either shop or starve. You know you have
to be there early or all the fresh produce will be gone (what’s the point in
restocking shelves anyway?) and if you leave it any later than say 10am, you
will be fighting half the population of Heidelberg for the remainder of said fresh
produce. There is also no such thing as online food shopping in Germany yet (at
least not for fresh produce.) But in their favour, nowadays at least supermarkets
here will accept credit cards, in Rewe they have even started offering
cash-back, and the opening times are far better than when I first moved here (back
in 1998, they shut at 2pm on Saturday and didn’t reopen until Monday morning).<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: inherit;">You and
your husband always go food shopping together to provide each other with moral
support. There are certain supermarkets that you hate more than others. Your
local Kaufland, for example, is also where the local drunks go to buy their
beer for breakfast and the first shelf you encounter on entering the shop is
stacked with “Hundefütter”. Yes, dog food, really enticing. Nevertheless, you often
go there, simply because it’s the closest and most convenient supermarket. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: inherit;">Before
leaving, you double-check that you have enough bags to pack your shopping into
(it’s either bring your own or pay for them), and that you have a 1 Euro coin
for the trolley. You then bite the bullet and off you go. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: inherit;">The
selection of brands in Kaufland is limited and if you are looking for more
“exciting” products, like curry spices, or even international products like your
baked beans or digestives, go straight to a Rewe or an Edeka (more upmarket
supermarkets). Alnatura is also a really nice place to shop. Also, don’t expect
much selection of meat (apart from everything pork) or a fresh fish counter. The
only advantage of a warehouse-like shop, such as Kaufland, is that because
there is no choice, you can whizz up and down the aisles, getting your weekly
shop done in no time at all. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: inherit;">You are
extra careful in the fruit and vegetable section of the supermarket. Under no
circumstances must you forget to weigh all your fruit and veg. The last thing
you want is to face a long line of outraged shoppers in the queue behind you as
you are forced to weigh the celeriac you were convinced was charged by the
piece. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></span></div>
<span lang="EN-US" style="line-height: 115%;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: inherit;">After a quick stop to drop off some empty beer
bottles to collect your so-called “Pfand” (bottle deposit), which can be as much as 25 cents per bottle (so don't throw any away by mistake!), it’s
time to pay.</span></span>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03767762944913796749noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-406232808432514262.post-28483925514721562932012-10-17T12:26:00.001-07:002012-10-17T12:26:41.456-07:00Pregnant pilates<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><span style="color: #444444;">This
evening I started a “Pilates für Schwangere” class (pregnant pilates). There
are a lot of good things about being pregnant and having children in Germany and
one of them is that your health insurance company pays for a fitness class as
long as you attend on a regular basis. Last time I did yoga, so this time I
thought I’d give pilates a go. The class just also happens to take place from
5.30pm – 6.45pm; exactly during my daughter’s dinner and bedtime, so a
fantastic reason to have a night off per week. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><span style="color: #444444;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><span style="color: #444444;">The class was
pretty boring really, but although I prefer more active sports like running and
tennis, I can see that the stretching and core stability exercises are beneficial
for pregnant women and hey, if they make the birth and recovery from birth
easier, then I am all for it. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><span style="color: #444444;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><span style="color: #444444;">I had a good laugh during the class as I was reminded of my blog. In fact, the class
brought together three recent blog topics all in the one room. </span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><span style="color: #444444;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><span style="color: #444444;">First of all, surprise,
surprise, I walked in to find the teacher airing the room. Then, once she had
let enough fresh, cold air into the room, she took off all her clothes and changed
into her sports gear. A few minutes later and I still didn’t know where to look
as three more ladies joined and also proceeded to strip down to their bra and
pants in front of me. Finally, no one
spoke a word. The class has already been running for a few weeks and I was the only
new person to join this evening. The only person’s voice I heard before, after
and during the entire class was the teacher’s. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><span style="color: #444444;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><span style="color: #444444;">I got home
and my daughter was still up having her dinner. So much for my night off!</span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03767762944913796749noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-406232808432514262.post-86629841895104092862012-10-17T00:51:00.000-07:002012-10-17T00:51:59.401-07:00Is silence really golden?<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 18.0pt;">
<span style="color: #666666;">Yesterday I took my daughter to the
hairdressers in Heidelberg. It wasn’t the first time she’s had her hair cut –
she has already been in Spain twice and in Scotland once – not to mention the crooked
attempts at fringe-trimming that I have made. All experiences so far have been
successful in the sense that she always leaves with a hair trim of some sort,
but on all three occasions, she certainly made life extremely difficult for the
poor unsuspecting hairdresser. Last time in Scotland, for example, she wriggled
in the chair, shook her head and screamed her head off until the whole
experience was over. The 5 minute trim felt like a lifetime to me, but luckily
they were very understanding, kind to her and still managed to get the job
done.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 18.0pt;">
<span style="color: #666666;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 18.0pt;">
<span lang="EN-US"><span style="color: #666666;">Nevertheless, I knew I couldn’t really put off
having her hair cut for any longer, and yesterday I was feeling brave, so I picked
up the phone to make an appointment at the nearest hairdressers. I found a
hairdressers that cut children’s hair (with my flat-hunting experience fresh in
my mind I was half expecting the response, “no, we are a child-free
hairdressers.”) and that cost 16 Euros. A bit steep, I thought (in Spain they
did it for free and in the UK for 5 pounds), but I’ll give it a go.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 18.0pt;">
<span lang="EN-US"><span style="color: #666666;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 18.0pt;">
<span lang="EN-US"><span style="color: #666666;">Going to the hairdresser in any country
involves a certain amount of risk and trying to explain what you want done in
foreign language even more so. I admit
that I also have a going-to-the-hairdresser-in-Germany-phobia and I still
always get my haircut at a salon in Glasgow. Partly because I have never been
entirely happy with the result here and partly because the whole hairdressing
experience there is more enjoyable than here; I get a welcome drink, a free
head massage, friendly staff and friendly chit chat. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 18.0pt;">
<span lang="EN-US"><span style="color: #666666;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 18.0pt;">
<span lang="EN-US"><span style="color: #666666;">Yesterday I walked into a completely silent
hairdressers; the only noise being the hum of the hairdryer and the only
interaction I got was when I explained what I wanted done. There were 2 other
clients having their hair done in complete silence and no music playing in the
background to hide the fact. The man who cut my daughter’s hair didn’t utter a
word during the whole haircut; not a word of encouragement to her, he didn’t ask
me her name, how old she is; there was absolutely no attempt at any kind of
small talk. My daughter was also clearly stunned into silence, because by some
miracle, she sat quietly in the chair for 15 minutes and only slightly grimaced
when the hairdresser sprayed her hair wet and brought out the dreaded
hairdryer. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 18.0pt;">
<span lang="EN-US"><span style="color: #666666;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 18.0pt;">
<span lang="EN-US"><span style="color: #666666;">Now, I don’t like it when a hairdresser asks too
many questions either or if they start telling me their life story, but complete
silence in a social situation makes me feel awkward and uncomfortable. Strike
up a conversation for goodness sake; break the ice! Germans famously don’t
waste any time on small talk. It is almost as if there is almost some kind of
unspoken rule that it’s either a proper, serious, or meaningful talk or no talk
at all; especially not with strangers in hairdressers. </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03767762944913796749noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-406232808432514262.post-5255772705911741282012-10-15T10:07:00.001-07:002012-10-15T10:10:20.114-07:00The customer doesn’t come first<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 18.0pt;">
<span style="color: #444444;">I was reminded this morning of why I do most of
my shopping these days from the safety of my own four walls.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 18.0pt;">
<span lang="EN-US"><span style="color: #444444;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 18.0pt;">
<span lang="EN-US"><span style="color: #444444;">For the first time in a long time, I decided to
venture into the centre of town to get a few bits and pieces, enjoy my morning
of peace without husband and daughter, and then reward myself with a coffee
from the French bakery. The great thing about shopping in Heidelberg is that
everything is so close – you can easily cycle into town, park your bike wherever
you need to, and shop to your heart’s content.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 18.0pt;">
<span lang="EN-US"><span style="color: #444444;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 18.0pt;">
<span lang="EN-US"><span style="color: #444444;">My first stop: the material shop. I love the
material shop in Heidelberg, because I know I am nearly always guaranteed a
certain level of customer service (when they aren’t busy that is.) The only unusual thing is that I have been in
the shop an uncountable number of times and spent hundreds of Euros in there,
but they still don’t seem to remember who I am. No smile of recognition, no
superficial friendliness for a regular customer. Today I wasn’t greeted with smile
or a friendly “Good morning! How can I help you? What are you after today? Oh, what is it your mum is making now?” (That would probably have
shocked me more!) But, when I did ask for help, I breathed a sigh of relief, because
for once while out shopping, I wasn’t treated as if I were causing the shop
assistant some dreadful inconvenience, because she actually had to stop what
she was “busy” doing to help me. Imagine that! </span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 18.0pt;">
<span lang="EN-US"><span style="color: #444444;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 18.0pt;">
<span lang="EN-US"><span style="color: #444444;">I expect too much? A bit harsh,
you say? Perhaps; and obviously there are always exceptions to the rule. But,
after so many years living here and being made to feel almost guilty asking for
help has taken its toll. Even the girls in my local bakery, which I go to practically
every day, don’t even begin to pretend to recognize me and remember my order.
The result: I have now lowered my high expectations in order to minimize the
number of nasty shocks and resulting anger fits I have when faced with rude and
unresponsive sales assistants. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 18.0pt;">
<span lang="EN-US"><span style="color: #444444;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 18.0pt;">
<span lang="EN-US"><span style="color: #444444;">So, these days even barely satisfactory
customer service makes me smile and makes me want to shop more, so on I went. </span></span><br />
<span lang="EN-US"><span style="color: #444444;"><br /></span></span>
<span lang="EN-US"><span style="color: #444444;">Next
stop: a wellness shop. I saw from their window that they were offering 25% off
their products – what better reason then, than to go in and spend some money. The
time was 9:55am and I wasn’t entirely sure if they opened at 9.30am or 10am,
but I pushed the door and it opened. In I walked, assuming that if the door is
open, the shop is also open. Oh no, silly me. A lady very quickly appeared from
the back room and in her most kind and welcoming voice, shouted, “wir sind
geschlossen” (we are closed). I felt one of those anger fits coming on. Stay
calm and don’t yell. If there is one thing you have learned, it is that it
won’t get you anywhere and the grass is not greener in the shop down the road. Shall
I try and reason with her that if she opens at 10am, it’s only a matter of 5
minutes or less, and that I do actually plan on spending money in the shop?
Shall I make some sarcastic comment and thank her for her friendly customer
service? In the end I decided not to waste my time. I held up my hands as if to
surrender and left the shop. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 18.0pt;">
<span lang="EN-US"><span style="color: #444444;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial; margin: 0cm 0cm 0.0001pt 18pt;">
<span lang="EN-US"><span style="color: #444444;">I am yet to be overwhelmed with
friendliness and excellent customer service in Germany. Until then, I think
I’ll stick to Internet shopping. </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03767762944913796749noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-406232808432514262.post-24830027325573480772012-10-12T00:27:00.000-07:002012-10-12T00:27:41.194-07:00Part 3: The Privacy Paradox<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><span style="color: #666666;">The third and final installment of my series on the naked truth about Germany.</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><span style="color: #666666;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><span style="color: #666666;">I would say
that the German nation is more private than any other nation I know – but
paradoxically, as you’ve already read, they seem to protect the privacy of
everything apart from their private parts. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><span style="color: #666666;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><span style="color: #666666;">Privacy law
is taken very seriously in Germany; much more so than in the UK, where we have
an incredibly intrusive media. Due to historical reasons, privacy law in
Germany is one of the strictest in the world. Under the Nazi regime and in GDR
times, people were under constant surveillance and faced persecution. The
Gestapo and the Stasi used methods that severely infringed people’s privacy and
had a terrifying impact on their personal lives. Memories of this are still
strong and have a massive impact on people’s attitudes and therefore also privacy
law itself. Germany, for example, has 17 official bodies responsible for
enforcing data protection; one federal one and one for each of the 16
Länder/states. Both Facebook and Google have faced difficulties in dealing with
breaches of privacy here. Google have even abandoned Street View in Germany
after huge privacy opposition when they first sent their cars in. Before this, Google were
forced to agree to allow German residents to opt-out of having their homes or
business pictured online by blurring the images; 3% of households chose this
option. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><span style="color: #666666;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><span style="color: #666666;">When they
first meet you, Germans will make a point of shaking your hand – establishing
touch, but at arm’s length. This for me summarizes the German attitude – they
will be perfectly polite, but that’s often as far as it goes. Maybe it’s just
me, but if I move house, whether it be into a new building of flats or a house,
I go and make a point of introducing myself to my new neighbours. The Germans,
despite being completely willing to strip off naked and reveal all in a sauna,
generally don’t have any contact with their neighbours – or take a long while
to establish contact – and certainly don’t go around knocking on doors to
introduce themselves. I’ve been living
in my building for almost 3 years now and I still don’t know all my neighbours.
It took at least 6 months before a single
neighbour even spoke to me – and another 6 months before we were invited up for
drinks (and we speak the language). To this day, I wouldn’t be able to tell you
much about this neighbour – they simply don’t reveal much about themselves
(just <i>of</i> themselves in the sauna that
is) and it is difficult, although not impossible, to establish friendships
because of this.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><span style="color: #666666;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><span style="color: #666666;">At work,
privacy is also rife. I once shared an office with a guy who used to bike into
work. He would go as far as changing out of his biking clothes into his work
clothes in front of me (and hanging them on the radiator to dry), but otherwise
only managed a “Guten Morgen” and “Tschüss” to me all day long. I once tried
asking him a more personal question to break the ice. “So how was your weekend?”
He looked surprised, looked up briefly, and answered, “Good, thanks”, and that
was that. A colleague, who joined the company from Brazil told me a similar
story. On his first day at work, he went to lunch with his colleagues. He
started chatting and asking questions about their families, and so on. One guy
actually turned around and asked him to stop asking such personal questions. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><span style="color: #666666;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><span style="color: #666666;">I like my
colleagues, but I honestly couldn’t tell you anything about who they are. I now
know that it has nothing to do with me and that they are not being rude; they
simply like to clearly separate their work life from their private life. Nevertheless,
I’m sure that if I were to pop down to the work sauna tonight, I would discover
more than I ever wanted to know. </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03767762944913796749noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-406232808432514262.post-25397642466869403262012-10-11T00:27:00.000-07:002012-10-11T00:27:30.612-07:00Part 2: Free body culture (FKK)<br />
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<span lang="EN-US"><span style="color: #666666;">A thin
metallic rope separates my garden from that of my neighbour’s. If I look to the
left, I have a direct view of their entire terrace and part of their living
room; not very private at all. My neighbours are medicine students and they often
parade their roughly 25 year-old, muscly, gym-toned bodies wearing just their
tight boxers outside on said terrace while rubbing suncream into each other’s
backs (they both have girlfriends, by the way). Ok, I admit that I secretly enjoy
this. That was, until a few weeks ago, when
I was quietly enjoying my dinner outside with my husband. I glanced over to my neighbour’s flat and saw
my neighbour completely au naturel. Yes, you heard it, in the nuddy. The worst
thing about this was that the balcony door was wide open and I could hear him talking
to his flatmate as if he were also standing there in the very same room. I
resisted the urge to keep my head turned long enough to see if he was also
baring all. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US"><span style="color: #666666;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US"><span style="color: #666666;">Go down to
your local gym and you will find changing rooms full of people getting
undressed, dressed, showered, etc. in
big, open rooms, all naked, all together. Who needs separate shower cubicles or
separate changing cubicles anyway? (Me!) Go to your doctor for an ankle
examination and he will ask you to take off your trousers first. Go for a quiet
Sunday walk along the river in Heidelberg and you will find unofficially
designated areas for naked sunbathers, who take naked showers beside the river.
Switch on the TV after midnight and you will be confronted with even more naked
bodies. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US"><span style="color: #666666;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US"><span style="color: #666666;">Germany is
famous for starting FKK (Freikörperkultur) – the free body culture movement,
which basically boils down to enjoying the experience of being nude, whether in
a club, on a beach, pool, park, etc. The first FKK club was formed in 1898 and
events, summer camps, even holidays organized according to FKK principles
continue to this day, albeit to a lesser extent. According to the Guardian,
German nudity is on the decline at a rate of 2% per year due to falling birth
rates and increased immigrants coming from countries with strong religious
beliefs.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US"><span style="color: #666666;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #666666;"><span lang="EN-US"> A few years ago now, I remember hearing about
naturist holidays in Germany. FKK has always been more of an Eastern German
phenomenon and these holidays catered towards the former East Germans, fondly
known as the “Ossis”. Not just FKK in a resort though – FKK im Flugzeug (in the
aeroplane), too. Jawohl, they were offering naked flights to Germany’s Baltic
Sea (which is also literally baltic by the way, but that is beside the point.) Passengers
were allowed to undress once in the aeroplane and dress again on landing. For
safety reasons, however, pilots and air hostesses had to remain fully clothed. </span>What
a relief. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: #666666;">As the famous German folk song goes, “Über den Wolken muss
die Freiheit wohl grenzenlos sein.” </span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="color: #666666;">Above the clouds (as well as on the ground) in Germany, freedom, it
would seem, does indeed know no bounds. </span> <o:p></o:p></span></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03767762944913796749noreply@blogger.com0