Germany is a land of tall counters (39") and low beds(18") ... of duvets (no top sheet) and square pillows (think Euro sham, except for here it's the standard pillow size) ...
Its a land of efficiency :: toilets (different size flushes based on what's needed), vehicles that shut off at stoplights, garbage that is neatly sorted into four different cans (three quarters of which can be composted or recycled).
Its a land where the water (wasser) sparkles. (It took me many unsuccessful attempts before I learned that "classic" refers to sparkling water, and "naturliches" is the still water I was searching for to fill my espresso machine.)
Its a land in love with pork ... very much in love with pork! (At a restaurant just around the corner from our home, delicious hearty bread was served with a unique spread ... when I asked what it was our waiter answered, "schweineschmalz." I could see he was searching for the words in English, but I told him it was all right. I had figured it out ...schweineschmalz is pig lard.)
Thankfully, in addtion to their affection for all things porcine, there is a great love of the cafe experience with very good coffees (we would venture to say we could go without Starbucks) and even better pastries ... It's a land that celebrate seasonal fruits ... springs of currant berries pop up on our plates as garnish ... and embraces alfresco ... doling out blankets at outside eateries rather than direct patrons inside.
Because our city is 51.3000 degrees N (roughly the latitude of Calgary) daylight hours are long and our suppers have been late ... we often find ourselves wrapping up meals at 10 pm and wonder how we hadn't noticed the time.
Its a funny time ... this place of transition. Putting our own clothes, finally! into drawers, after four long weeks of suitcases. Unpacking a few familiar things of home (the box of spices the movers wouldn't ship, a favorite stuffed animal and a last minute photo from a friend at home.) At the same time its strange to sit down to a rented table, sleep in a rented bed, and rest our heads on rented Euroshams. We are trying to create names for places in our new home which is bigger than our last, and find the descriptions comical since "the Library" lacks books and "the Office" is a lonely place with a solitary, naked bulb hanging from the ceiling. We are learning the tricks of the house ... the metal louvered shades that lower automatically at night over the windows ... and trying not to find the bunkerlike basement too scary ... We marvel that we can see dairy cows out of our second floor windows at one end of the house and the daily Emirates A380 flight into DUS out the other.
There are of course the obstacles. The realization once again of what it feels like to be illiterate. Bea took a shot in the dark on the toilet doors at at cafe labeled simply with an H or D ... she quickly learned that she'd look for a D (for damen) in the future. We stumble with the basics, humbly asking if the person we are speaking with speaks English ... We are grateful for the patience we have encountered and thankful for the Germans willingness to work with us.
There is sticker shock everywhere, even before you translate the US dollar to the rather weak Euro. Our family of four easily racks up a 100 Euro dinner bill (which the company fortunately foots for the first week or so), and we learn that there is a different way of living, and also a special appreciation for things we sometimes take for granted.
Its a funny time ... this place of transition. Putting our own clothes, finally! into drawers, after four long weeks of suitcases. Unpacking a few familiar things of home (the box of spices the movers wouldn't ship, a favorite stuffed animal and a last minute photo from a friend at home.) At the same time its strange to sit down to a rented table, sleep in a rented bed, and rest our heads on rented Euroshams. We are trying to create names for places in our new home which is bigger than our last, and find the descriptions comical since "the Library" lacks books and "the Office" is a lonely place with a solitary, naked bulb hanging from the ceiling. We are learning the tricks of the house ... the metal louvered shades that lower automatically at night over the windows ... and trying not to find the bunkerlike basement too scary ... We marvel that we can see dairy cows out of our second floor windows at one end of the house and the daily Emirates A380 flight into DUS out the other.
There are of course the obstacles. The realization once again of what it feels like to be illiterate. Bea took a shot in the dark on the toilet doors at at cafe labeled simply with an H or D ... she quickly learned that she'd look for a D (for damen) in the future. We stumble with the basics, humbly asking if the person we are speaking with speaks English ... We are grateful for the patience we have encountered and thankful for the Germans willingness to work with us.
There is sticker shock everywhere, even before you translate the US dollar to the rather weak Euro. Our family of four easily racks up a 100 Euro dinner bill (which the company fortunately foots for the first week or so), and we learn that there is a different way of living, and also a special appreciation for things we sometimes take for granted.
Last week while I caught up on laundry in our microscopic rented machine, Herr Johnson took the girlies swimming.When my sister asked how close the pool was, I said, well you go down our road, turn left at the forest and right at the castle. I wasn't joking, and at times we need to pinch ourself that we are living in such a unique place :: rich in history and modern at the same time.
"Turn left at the castle and then right at the mote."
ReplyDeleteSo happy to read of your adventures again! New places - new chapters
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