Culture, Class, and Getting Called “Kevin”

It’s official.  German class has completely consumed me.  It’s like Moby Dick in one big gulp.  Then you have to sit and write a letter to the teacher to describe it all.  Umm.  Fortunately, learning a new language certainly comes with it’s laughs and really cool lessons.  Would you like a little dose?  Don’t worry – no grammar or exams involved.  (insert green envy from at my desk)

1.  The number of people who now call me “Kevin” has drastically shrunk to just one Vietnamese girl.  I am very much okay with this.

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2.  My teacher often pairs us with people who don’t speak the same language so that we don’t slip into words that are comfortable and natural.  The first time I was partners with a girl from Russia, I believe the teacher’s comments went something like this:

“Katrin (me) and Viktoria work together.  The United States and Russia.”

She continues matching people up.  Viktoria and I start planning an adventure on a city map.

Our teacher comes back to us and listens in.  I ramble some horrible grammar that would make you want to choke.  Yet by some miracle, Viktoria understands.  So does the teacher.  We get a gold star sized smile.  The teacher starts to walk away and then pauses.  She turns back to us.

“The US and Russia?  Together?”

Oh wow.  I never really thought about it.  Neither did Viktoria.  We’re just two people trying to get the hang of this “der die das” German thing.  Our teacher raises her eyebrows and adds happily:

“The US and Russia.  Together.  …in Germany.”

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3.  Now Viktoria and I email one another in the night. “Have you started the homework yet?”  ”No.  You?”  ”No.”

Of course, it takes us both a lot of time and a lot of online dictionary action to figure out how to express ourselves and then figure out what the heck we’re telling each other.  The amazing thing is that these emails seem to help our German more than any homework we could ever get.  They also take just as long.

So to Viktoria (who may very well be plugging in an online translator as she catches her name flashing across Making This Home):  thank you!

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4. I’ve started looking for German blogs to follow. (Can anyone suggest any?)

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5.  For the first time, I’ve been going out to dinner or coffee with Americans who speak less German than me. I’ve always been the straggler.  Now I feel the shock of being the person translating menus aloud or asking the waiter for our bill.  For years, my husband has been my crutch.  He has taken care of everything and spoken to everyone for me.

We imagine people used to think he was so rude because they’d ask me questions and he would jump in to answer while I stood silently by.

“Excuse me, Miss.  Do you know where the subway station is?”

“Oh!” said Martin, who was busy opening the door while I stood by doing nothing.  ”You have to go two blocks down that way and then…”

I stood there, dumbfounded.

Of course, Martin was never butting in.  You can’t get interrupted when you have no clue what’s being said!

And if he wasn’t speaking for me, I was with a friend who knew German.  Bravery is a beautiful thing.

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6.  And finally, because I am completely baffled by this fact (taught to us by a Bulgarian classmate):

In Bulgaria, you nod your head up and down to say no.  You shake your head left and right to say yes.  It’s completely backwards than anywhere else I or anyone else in my class knows.  You too?  Here I thought the culture shock I had when I moved to Germany was awkward.  Just imagine.

Would you like some ice cream?

Shakes head back and forth and says, “I’ll take chocolate.”