just smile and nod

One of the worst things about being foreign is those awkward conversations with people who haven't quite caught on yet that, no, you are not from these parts. These often led to moments where you feel like a huge winner. The worst part of it is, you actually think in the beginning that this could actually end well for you. The German in question says something general, that, surprise! you understand, such as, "the weather is nice today" or "this elevator is moving really fast." WIN. You pull out your mental sharpie to put another tally in life's victory column, but then you realize, you have to say something back to that...and unfortunately all you got is "kweeks train [hand to forehead, fingers extend]" and "ja..." Usually the latter makes more sense. Replying, however, is a fatal mistake: you've engaged the German and now they recognize you as one of their own. The next line isn't so easy to tackle and all you can make out is "esch haaet aeier erschleimen lutigung agetet." Unable to ascertain whether this is a positive, negative, something you have to use actual words to respond to, or another language, you stare, put on your most awkward smile/half grimace, and slowly start nodding your head. Eventually the elevator doors open, the German exits, thinking, "is that kid dumb in the head?"

just let it go to voicemail

Germans have an unusual relationship with their telephones. whenever a phone rings in the vicinity of a German, they are required, by federal law, to answer it (not a joke, check out a description of said law here: http://www.textlog.de/35444.html ...might need a chrome auto translate to read it). Regardless of how much sense it does not make to just let the phone go to voicemail, if you call a German they will respond. At work, this results in conversations such as:

Coworkers is talking on his landline when his cell phone starts to ring:
Coworker (to landline): hold on, my phone's ringing. Picks up cell phone. Hallo. I'll call you back. Bis gleich. Returns to landline. blah blah blah, ok good talking to you. Bye. Hangs up. Calls cell phone caller back. Hey, what's up? I was on my other line...rest of conversation.


or:

Multiple coworkers are talking to each other. One of their cell phones rings.
Coworker: Hallo. I'll call you back. Bis gleich. Hangs up.
Resume rest of conversation.


or:

German being mauled by a bear. His phone rings.
German: Hallo. I'll call you back. Bis gleich. German dies from spending too much time talking on phone and not enough time being worried about imminent bear threat.


This all just feeds my theory that Germans either do not understand or do not appreciate nonverbal communication.

super size me

When you are the sole consumer of the food you eat, you begin to realize what a fat american you are. All pretense is gone. You can no longer pretend that you and snow "shared" that bag of Doritos. There's no one there to tell you that putting two packets of cream cheese on your bagel is perfectly legitimate. Gluttony is the only explanation for anything you do.

In awe of the fact that I have not gained weight from a combination of sitting at a desk for 10 hours a day and eating like a man, i have compiled the following list of my more gruesome caloric-intakes over the past 3 weeks (keep in mind that this does not include lunch, and i didnt eat dinner for the first week that i was here...). So basically in 3 weeks of breakfast and in 2 weeks of dinner, i consumed the following (and more):

All-Time
5500 calories of bread
4500 calories of frozen pizza

3300 calories of peanut butter

2550 calories of strawberry jam
20 egg rolls (ASIAN)
20-25 apples

Things consumed in a period of time less than or equal to 24-hours
500 calories of chocolate (this was maybe a 2-hour period and this bar was supposed to be "for later")
1 entire bag of Riffles (these chips tasted like cardboard and i still ate them...)
8 apples
1 bag of cookies (~2 hours)

this might not sound like a lot of food, and it probably isnt, but the numbers game you play when you realized how much youve eat is just brutal. and it's kinda disturbing. i mean, really? ive eaten 3 jars of jam in 3 weeks? that's disgusting.

Fashion Statement

Rules for being fierce in Germany:

1. Shorts - not allowed
2. Jeans - must be mutilated in some way, either with numerous square patches sewn on or with tacky fake rip marks. Tight fit for women, tight fit OR bell-bottom style for men.
3. Man Capris - in what I can only assume to be an attempt to bring down the average attractiveness of an entire continent, these gems came into existence. Generally made from left-over parachute material from the second world war, man capris extend to that awkward length between shorts and pants, and, usually, make you look like half of a man.
4. Shirts - anything without writing on it and/or any shirt with English that makes no sense
5. Scarves - not just for women
6. Shoes - must be awkwardly small  and meet at least one of the following criteria: 1) ugly pattern/color 2) sequenced 3) adidas. Rainbows are a definitive no.
7. Fanny pack - convenient for storing your wallet/phone/dignity and labels you as one of the cool kids

i have the best mom

she is bringing me tortillas. crises averted.

get on the mexican train germany

i want a fucking tortilla

hi im foreign

I feel like my ability to understand German spoken by real life Germans has improved significantly since I've arrived here in Deutschland just 2 weeks ago...now, instead of having a completely blank look on my face anytime anyone talks to me as i try to distinguish words from one another, i have a look of intense concentration as i try to guess either 1) what all those words could possible mean when used in such a construction or 2) how to form sentences to respond to what has just been said (or what i hope has just been said). Germans react to this look in many different way. There's of course the classic lemme-switch-to-English technique...used by most Germans who can speak English, and, unfortunately, used by most Germans who can't. For the less perceptive natives, there's the option of rambling in German for five minutes while I stand there smiling and nodding and trying to walk away. The third and final option is what one guy did to me in the t-mobil store last Saturday: literally look you up and down and say "oh you're not from here," and walk away.

jeepers creepers

during an evening that most notable for 1) beer 2) strange albanians and 3) metrosexual men...me and a one james fratwick ran into this gem:

yes, this is a clown, playing a guitar, on an empty street. not the best picture, but, in the words of mr. fratwick, we didn't have much to work with...

Attention New Jersey Transit Passengers, the 1:45 local to Trenton is now forty-five minutes late...

Like most Americans used to airplanes, cars, or, God forbid, the New Jersey Transit, I find the German train system (the "Deutsche Bahn") to be one of the greatest things to ever exist. However, today at lunch I learned that most Germans are not big fans of the good ol' DB. When I asked my co-workers what was wrong with the Deutsche Bahn, the boss man said, "you know, it never comes when it says it will. In Switzerland, you can time your watch to it. The train's coming at 8:06? At 8:05:50, you can count down, 10, 9, 8, 7, 6, 5, 4, 3, 2, 1, and boom, the doors open. Here, the train's coming at 8:06, you just don't know. It might come at 8:07 or even 8:10." 

Children

I don't know why this subset of the population is so attracted to me, but I don't like it and I don't handle it well. Take for example, my experience at the Chicago airport (yes, it was apparently necessary to fly from NC to Chicago to Philadelphia to Frankfurt): I was seated by my gate, waiting for my plane to come, when a small 3-4 year-old boy sitting behind me, kept popping his head up over the seat and giggling at me. Every time I would turn around, he would duck behind the seat and giggle even more. When he sensed that I had turned back around, he would creepily pop his head up over the seat again. This was cute for about two minutes, before it got to the point where I didn't really know what to do other than to keep turning around (I mean, I couldn't ignore him, that would be mean…). Anyways, 20 minutes later I had a crick in my neck and feeling more than just a little bit awkward. Eventually the situation was resolved by his mother, who told him to cut it out.

Needless to say, the awkwardness of these kinds of situations is exponentially increased in a foreign land. Not only is the line between social appropriateness and creepiness a little blurred or shifted from the average American lifestyle, but the language barrier makes it hard to explain yourself when you cross said line.

In one of my more embarrassing moments (this is saying a lot…*cough* top five *cough*…), I was walking home from work last summer (this was in Germany too, so I figured I could reference here…) the better part of a Turkish family was walking in the opposite direction as me on the sidewalk. The mother was pushing a 1-2 year old in a stroller while her 7ish year-old daughter walked in front of her. As I approached the family, the daughter stuck out her hand, palm facing me…a 4+ year friendship with Lang has taught me that any such gesture should be instantly recognized as an invitation to high five. Excited about how a high five was about to bridge two cultures, I too extended my hand for a high five. However, this aspect of American culture has not quite made its rounds around the globe, and the girl instantly pulled her hand away. I will never forget the disapproving look that mother gave me.

Just in case you missed it: I got rejected for a high five. From a 7 year old.

Other instances of small foreign children judging me: I was in the elevator last week and said something in English to a co-worker. A 2 year old typically blond German boy giggled incessantly and said, "sie ist lustig" (she's funny). To which his mother replied, "ja, sie ist lustig." I feel so welcomed here.

Anyways, the whole point of this post was to talk about my experience on the train on the way home from work tonight. I was sitting across from yet another Turkish family; the parents had a girl 2-3, and another child, gender unclear, 6 - 12 months. Not only did both (read it: both) kids stare at me for about 80% of the 20-minute train ride, but so did the mother (and not in the "oh hey, you're sitting across from me kinda way", definitely more of the "why are you looking at me" kinda way…). The little girl would stare at me, push her half-dissolved food out of her mouth and let it dribble/fall down her shirt and on to the floor, and then scream. That's the reaction she had when she looked at me. 

Certificate of toolishness: signed, sealed, and delivered...

I had a sit-down with the boss man the other day where I learned three very important facts.:

1. I have absolutely no idea what I'm doing and what the economy/investment/money is 
2. there's a finite amount of time before everyone else that I work with also realizes this

              3.  I'm a tool

The main purpose of this sit-down was to explain what our small little group does in the fast empire that is apparently Deutsche Bank. So we started out with facts such as

1. Deutsche Bank is an empire.
2. An ORFE major would have been a better choice as an intern, whereas a COS major was probably just a mistake...
3. Germans are going to take over the world
4. [propaganda]

and, most importantly:

5. working at Deutsche Bank is not the equivalent as working at Bank of America. As in Deutsche Bank invests people's money and Bank of America is just a regular bank that you put your money in and get loans from. This was not explicitly stated, but it's what I gleaned from the conversation using my rudimentary knowledge of both the German language and Bank of America…which might explain why when I checked BoA's wikipedia article just now, I learned that BoA does, in fact, invest people's money. Fact 1 that I have no idea what I'm doing: proven.

I'm sure there were other points, I just couldn't understand them.

someone just asked if i was 30

fuck.

what we have here, is a failure to communicate

first conversation of the day:

me: hallo ich bin ein...ein...Prakti....Prakti.....[pause]

receptionist: Praktikantin?

translation:

me: hi, im an....id, idi....

receptionist: idiot?

germany 1. kweeks 0.

second conversation of the day...
let's just say i tried to introduce myself to a bunch of other interns, and instead just labeled myself as a tard face foreigner

2-0, deutschland

fourth conversation of the day (the third was in english...)

boss: do you know how to ___?

me: not really

repeat ten times.

3-0

lunch conversation:

successfully completed, in german. i only understood about half of what he was saying, but i dont think he knew. the urge to stand up on the table and yell HORNDOG KWEEKS TRAIN was overwhelming.

final score: germany 3. kweeks 1.

we shall meet again deutschland...

Traveling and Settling In

Highlights of the 20-hour long journey from Chapel Hill to Frankfurt:

• Being high fived by the TSA security guard for turning 21 this year
• After telling him that I was working at Deutsche Bank for the summer, the guy sitting next to me on the plane said "it's always good to stay near the money"
• Having the German customs guy take approximately 20 minutes to stamp my passport. He literally put my passport on the counter, put the stamp on top of it, and then stared at me. Stare. Stare. Stare. Stare. 5 minutes later he finally pushed down on the stamp and gave it back to me. 1. Creep.er. 2. I started thinking about how Sarah Plummer would be laughing in a similar situation, and had to make a huge effort not to start laughing myself.

The Wohnheim:

Just like the Germans need 7 denominations of coins, I apparently need 4 keys to get to my room. I have no idea what the fifth key I was given is for.

The roommates:

I am living with the only Chinese person in all of Germany. I plan on bonding with her over the fact that I too can use chopsticks. The other two roommates seem like averagely-weird Germans.