Home Again

I am really liking being back in the States.  Not in a bitter way – all in all the year in Germany was a great experience, and I really hope I get the opportunity to live there again sometime.  (Partly because I haven’t given up hope of trying to crack the hard nut is German society for me.)  But it’s so great to know what’s going on again!

Just a tiny little example: the other day I called information to get the phone number for a bar called Ashley’s.  When the operator asked for the name of the business and I said “Ashley’s,” she was silent for a few seconds, so that I finally said “yeah, that’s it – Ashley’s.”  She said, “Oh, I thought you said ‘actually…’” – and we both laughed, it was a funny misunderstanding.  I never got to the point where I could enjoy that kind of interaction in Germany, because 1) few people (with a couple exceptions) seemed to share my sense of humor, 2) humor depends a lot on timing, and I’m just slower auf Deutsch and 3) in Maslowian terms, I had to work so hard at just understanding what was going on on a basic level, that I often didn’t get the nuances of a situation well enough to share a laugh, especially with a stranger.  Not that I never caught any nuances at all or gave up trying to interpret situations.  I just rarely had any confirmation other people’s — close acquaintances or not — interpretations of a situation matched up with my own.  When I think about how confused I was the first 4 months of my time there — and how the confusion never really got resolved, it just kind of dissipated as I lost the need to seem like I fit in — I marvel at how much harder it would have been had I gone somewhere that’s really different from the US, like Africa or Asia.  And I marvel at how brave people are who go to Europe from those areas, who don’t have the benefit of speaking a language that everyone wants to learn and coming from a country that everyone seems to have some measure of respect for, even if it’s grudging or mixed with criticism.

A German friend of mine, to whom I often confided my confusion and irritation with German culture and who spent 3 months herself in Canada, said more than once that she looked forward to hearing whether I felt as at home in the US, once I got back, as I expected to.  In fact I heard from more than one German who had lived abroad that they really missed wherever they’d been once they got back, and had trouble transitioning back into their native society.  But except for a couple faux pas where I’ve gotten  little too close to people in public (as evidence by stares) and realized that my notion of personal space needs to be re-enlarged, I am having no trouble  reentering American society.  (Oh, and I really miss the milk.)  It’s good to be home!

straight talk from WKQZ

Bad:

“I’d like to tell you about my spiritual journey.”

Good:

“I’d like to tell you about Jesus Christ and his exclusive claims.”

This from Alistair Begg, whose preaching my mom is listening to right now on Christian radio.  Wow,

Begg also  just said that walking in the truth is not easy; it’s an every day, uphill battle, kind of like taking up your cross daily.  I want to think about that some.  I’m feeling a bit convicted.  I do think, though, that it’s possible — and important — to tell people about unnegotiable (to me) truths in a way that’s a bit more winsome and humble and empathetic and dialog-conducive than opening with “I’d like to tell you about Jesus Christ and his exclusive claims.”  Besides, I do think that in some sense we are *all* journeying on this earth, even if we’re not all trying to get to the same place, or any place in particular.  If not, why on earth should we listen to each other?

Trancendence and Meditation in Elizabeth Goudge

Almost two years ago now I posted about how people like to use the word trancscendence but I personally don’t like the word because I don’t know what it means.  Ironically, since that post I’ve been using the word semi-regularly.  I think it’s connected to meditation, i.e., what meditation is trying to get at. I like the German word for meditation here – my friend always says Betrachtung, which actually means “observation.”   Here’s a description from one of my favorite authors, Elizabeth Goudge (an English Catholic novelist who published between 1936 and 1970) that expresses well what I think meditation is reaching for:

The marble seat was white as the last rose blossom, opening unexpectedly in this late glow of warmth.  She felt the cool petals against her cheek and turning her head she saw the leaves like lifted hands holding it out to her. She lifted her hands too and then dropped them, afraid to touch the flower lest she bruise it. Instead she looked deep into its heart, that glowed golden at the center of the exquisite whiteness.   The very faint perfume came to her. She looked and time ceased.  The world went away too, even Golden Grove.  Only she and the flower existed.  Then she too stole away from herself, though sight remained that could look upon the flower, and song remained, for she was singing to it.  When she first began to hear the song she did not know that it was herself that that was singing, she thought it was a seraph behind her in the tree; or the tree itself.   Yes, thre tree was certainly singing.  They sang together for a while ….

- Elizabeth Goudge, The Child from the Sea, New York: Coward-McCann (1970): 123-24.

Taking Stock

the continuation of a list I started in December…

Just a few things that I won’t miss about Germany:

• I’ll say it again: bureaucracy
• the way no one ever busses their table at Starbucks
• the business hours.
• preserved fish
• the astronomical cost of school supplies.
• stinginess with condiments
• a general tendancy to bean-count
• kitsch and efficient sterility – the two most common styles of decor
• university “seminars” with zero student discussion
• a prevailing fear of sticking one’s neck out
• cultural Christianity, in the sense of milquetoast sermons and in-club back-patting

Just a few things that I will miss about Germany:

• cultural Christianity, in the sense of majestic church buildings, an abundance of beautiful music, and a general appreciation for tradition and ceremony
• teachers who enjoy the nitty gritty, willingly put students on the spot, and are comfortable with the Bible
• German milk, the drink of the gods
• Laugenbrötchen and -brezel – the platonic form of bread.
• Gundel, the bakery just down the street from my dorm, where I get said bread and quiche Lorraine
• diet coke tastes better here
• the Süddeutsche Zeitung
• the dirt cheap and not untasty student dining hall
• Deutschlandfunk (the equivalent of NPR…well, I can still listen to it online, I just wanted to give it a shout out)
• bike-riding to get from point A to B. It’s way more fun here than in the states because it’s so much better integrated into society – you don’t feel like a pathetic loser/ treehugger out there risking your life on the roads all alone
• I’ve done more than my fair share of complaining about German manners, but I’ve come to appreciate that people don’t go out of their way pretending to like someone or be curious about their day, if they’re not. It saves time and energy.
• Schoko Knusper (a kind of cereal)
• German
• the sharp little hills surrounding Heidelberg, the prettiest place I’ve ever lived
• people like M.R., who has more pressure on her than any young adult I’ve ever known, but still (or because of that?) has deep wells of compassion for the marginal and disadvantaged; or H.-J., who in the absence of fluent German expresses her affection (to all and sundry) with caresses; or C.M., who’s both an Assyriologist and an authentic, caring human being, or C.G., who reminded me that grad school should be fun and meaningful (at least some of the time), or B., who always speaks up in house meeting if she thinks something is fishy, or A.Z., who says I see appreciate facets of her that no one else sees, or S., my Japanese roommate who after much drilling learned to greet me with “’s up?” and a head tilt, or M.B., who calls ‘em like he sees ‘em but is also kind, or A.G., who walks the talk … and more.

spiritual check-up

I had a friend call me on my negativity today…not in general, about something in particular that bothers her.  But even though it kind of hurts, it’s salutary to be reminded in a caring way that there’s still a lot of that uncharitable, black-and-white thinking kid in me.  Or as my sister has been telling me all my life, I’m mean.  I’ll probably never have that beat, but I do want to work on it.

Thanks, God, for friends who speak the truth in love.  Please help me to get better about the love part.

moral dilemma

So, because for a while I was thinking about dropping out of or taking a leave 0f absence from grad school, and then because I told myself I didn’t have to think about anything that stressed me until I absolutely had to, I’m just now seriously looking for housing for next year.  For someone looking to live walking distance from campus with non-undergrad roommates who smokes, pickings are slim indeed.  I am really surprised at how many people who posted ads chose “non-smoker” rather than “no smoking preference.”

So I have some questions here.  1) In most cases should I assume that these people really don’t want a roommate who smokes at all, even if they don’t smoke in the house?  The last time I searched for a roommate through this website I made that assumption; mentioned casually to a nice-seeming potential roommate that I am a very light smoker (that was true at the time), and found out that she meant that non-smoking thing seriously, because she’d had a smoking roommate before and “sometimes his coat stank.” (Princess.)

2) Should I email people who seem like good fits and tell them I’m a smoker but was hoping they didn’t really mean it / would be willing to make an exception, or, given the fact that things are getting desperate and I’m about to have to settle for living in the middle of nowhere for $700 a month, should I just keep mum about my filthy habit and see how long I can conceal it from them after I move in, knowing that there won’t be much they can do?

And please don’t anyone answer “use this as an opportunity to quit.”

“This language, its words are perfect.”

(To paraphrase Psalm 18: 30.)  I repent of ever looking on German as English’s poor, clunky, backward second cousin.  I only thought that because I had zero feel for the language.  Here are some of my favorite words:

- doch – your all purpose word to signal contradiction or resistance or concession or surprise of some kind, that I’m only just learning to use actively.  You can just say “doch!” (~ “au contraire”) by itself if you disagree, or “das ist doch völlig klar!” (but that is completely clear!) if someone asks a stupid question, or “komm doch!” (come doch!) if someone says that they might not come, or “leck mich doch am Arsch!” (kiss my ass!) if someone makes you mad or if you can’t find your keys.
- scheinheilig – hypocrytical, lit. “holy-seeming”
- mangelhaft – deficient, lacking
- zauberhaft – enchanting
- bedauerlicherweise – regrettably
- dummerweise – unfortunately, annoyingly – lit. “dumbily”  This is a completely standard, non-colloquial word.
- beziehungsweise – respectively, and/or
- Fürst – prince
- zwiegespalten – conflicted, lit. “divided in two”
- verzweifelt – desperate
- wahrhaftig – truly – e.g. “Er ist wahrhaftig auferstanden.” = “He is risen indeed.”
- beseitigen – eliminate (lit. I think “put aside”)
- tragfähig – sustainable.
- besänftigen – to conciliate, placate – e.g., an angry goddess.
- Hinterlist – cunning
- heilsam – salvific
- wachsam – vigilant
- pretty much any word that ends in -weise, -haft or -sam

Thoughts on the Trinity

It’s funny how the longer I spend in academia / older I get / further experience I have of depression (not sure which is the decisive factor), the more I start to wonder if Christianity is true.  Not that I am having serious doubts that anyone should worry about – it’s just that as my “structures of plausibility” change, the more I start to be able to appreciate that Christianity isn’t the only way to see the world.

Still, the idea of the Trinity — and specifically of Father, Son and Holy Spirit loving each other and living in relationship from all eternity — makes total sense to me now, in a way that it didn’t when it was first introduced to me.  If God were just the static presence that I used to imagine hovering over the void before he said “let there be light,” I would be bothered by the question, “Why on earth did he feel the need to create man?”  I don’t like to imagine God sitting around doing nothing, just enjoying his bad self before he created us.  But the thought of three perfect persons having always existed and loved each other, and then at some point creating people as a reflection of that, makes sense to me.

By the way, the poster that I ripped down did come up tonight in house meeting. At the time I sat there silent and cool as a cucumber, certain that no one would ever suspect little old me of the crime.  But later on as I came face to face with the owner of the poster (who had asked about it, who I don’t know well but like), I was overcome with remorse and confessed to her what I had done and why.  She took it amazingly – she totally seemed to sympathize my reasons and wasn’t mad at all.  She didn’t particularly like the poster, she just put it up because she can’t stand how white and impersonal the walls are.  I vastly prefer to white and impersonal to infantile crap, but it’s funny how knowing who had put the poster up and why made me resent it a bit less.  We totally laughed and bonded over it.  I call that dialogue.  Or maybe just grace.

(I lack) Cultural Fluency

Update 11/6/09 – In a fit of empowerment I unilaterally ripped the the poster off the wall and threw it into my trashcan.  I wonder if this will come up in House Meeting.

I’m thinking about coming back  here after exams to work on my dissertation, so maybe I’ll have another crack at attaining proficiency, if not fluency.

———

I wish people wouldn’t ask me if I like Germany or if I feel comfortable here when Germans are part of the conversation.  Early in my time here I was able to say yes (albeit with serious mental qualifications), but these days I can’t even convincingly evade the question.  I met an American just now who’s planning to go to med school here in Germany (seems kind of dumb considering that he hasn’t decided for sure that he wants to live here long term), who put this question to me, in front of his German friend.  When he asked me what I miss about America, I said “Friends.  English.  Convenience.  Knowing what’s going on.”

For an example of how I still don’t understand what’s going on here, in the sense of not knowing how people think or what makes them tick, see the poster below of cartoon bears having breakfast, which is posted in the hall outside my room.  This is in a dorm where the majority study theology (a serious subject here – they have to study Latin and philosophy as well as the stuff I studied in seminary) and the average age is probably 23 or 24.  And this is what they choose to decorate public spaces with.

Stone-Cold German

I am not resenting Germans these days nearly as much as I was in April, I think because my mental health is generally so much better. In fact I’m kind of sad that I have to leave here in just a little over a month. But a tiny little interaction just happened that illustrates the suspicious, stone-faced unfriendliness that was so aptly described on another ex-pat’s blog that I happened across yesterday:

German privacy law forbids the dissemination of photos of people or their property without their consent. It probably also forbids disseminating descriptions of them, too, or mentioning their name out loud or talking about them when they are not there or even to them when they are (not that you would want to, this is all hypothetical) because they might think that you want something from them or that you’re out to get them or something and then that vicious spiral of distrust, fear, loathing and paranoia starts spinning all over and over again and again. And we don’t want that.

I crossed paths just now in the old city with a (quite young) professor in my department and his girlfriend (who is about my age). I’ve never been introduced to her but have seen her often around the department, which is quite small, and recently exchanged a couple words with her about the copy machine. He and I had a little “get to know you” talk when I first got here, have spoken several times in the past couple months about whether or not I was going to take his course; and he’s aware enough of me to have recently reported to my advisor that I didn’t actually take any of his courses this year. So naturally, I said “Hallo” to them as I passed. They both look at me for a second awkwardly as though something slightly untoward has happened and move on without otherwise reacting.

Speaking of this professor, here’s a record (translated into English) of our last conversation, three days ago:

- Professor out of the blue as he passes me in the library: “Frau [Last Name], you should contact John Doe at the University of —–.”

- Me, after thinking a second and looking at him questioningly: “What about?”

- Professor: “He recently published [Title] on [something about grammar].”

- Me, after hemming and hawing a second, with a confused smile: “What are you talking about?” (My German’s not good enough to say things “durch die Blumen” most of the time.)

- Professor: “You emailed me the other day and asked me about ——-.”

- Me: “I haven’t emailed you in a long time.”

- Professor, unmoved and stone-faced: “You emailed me and asked about —— because you recently finished your dissertation.”

- Me: “I haven’t finished my dissertation, and I didn’t email you.”

- Professor, without cracking a smile or otherwise betraying signs of sheepishness, humor or humanity, says: “Then it was another American” and turns around and leaves the room.