Life In Germany: Challenging perspectives

The longer I live in Germany the more I discover how ingrained my British culture is. I guess, though, it's hardly surprising considering ALL my years of life thus far have been predominantly spent in England.

I've lived in Germany for almost two months and that time has opened my eyes to how tied my thoughts and perceptions of the world are to a British sensibility.

Before I moved I thought I was quite accepting of other cultures. In school and at university, despite living in predominantly white middle class areas, I'd had friends with all kinds of national backgrounds; Nigerian, Singaporean, Chinese, French, German, Indian, Greek, American, Welsh, the list goes on. At the time I thought I was embracing my friends' cultures. But now I live in a foreign country I realise what I accepted was an Anglicised adaptation of their culture. I had an expectation that if you moved to my country you should speak my language and do things the way my country and culture dictated. However, somewhat naively, I had not considered that this notion should also work in reverse.

Now, to use an English idiom, the shoe is on the other foot. Let me give you an example, I would not expect someone in England to approach me and ask if I spoke German, Spanish, Urdu but yet I am fully prepared to ask someone in Germany if they speak English. This is the resounding impact of my British upbringing. Having realised this, I have a completely different perspective on the people I meet in my day to day who look at me slightly vexed and say "Nein" as I utter "Sprechen Sie Englisch bitte?" These people are pertaining the same expectation I have in my country of origin. Simply, "if you live in my country you should try to speak my language".

And so while I will not renounced my Britishness, I am prepared to be more Germanic in my day to day - as I've already expressed in this blog, I am trying to master the German language as my own.

I draw the line at adopting the German's version of tea though.

Please send supplies of Tetley and Yorkshire!

2012: Time For A Change

Over the last few months this blog has somewhat been lacking posts and for this I apologise. It is not because I have become slack at blogging. Far from it in fact. For the last few months I have found myself writing, editing and running blogs for others (most notably Anya 17 and Hope City Frankfurt). Only thing is, between that and holding down two part time jobs, it left me with no time to write in my own blog (although with probably only six readers in the whole wide interweb I doubt my ramblings have been missed too much!). But now it's 2012, it's time to pick up the old keyboard and screen and start over. 

I don't believe in New Year's Resolutions (mainly because I am abysmal at sticking to them), but for me, 2012 presents a long-awaited beginning which should at least be documented in the semi-permanence of the internet [purely for it to be lost in cyberspace and then one day rediscovered by some unsuspecting hacker who probably hasn't even been born yet, you understand].

The dawning of 2012 marks the final steps towards probably one of the biggest and slightly more mental decisions of my life. In a matter of months, nay weeks (job, flights and accommodation permitting), my pale little English face will soon be finding home amongst throngs of German ones as I set up life in Frankfurt.

Yes, at 26 bizarre and wonderful years of age, I am going to leave my mother country and attempt to live in a land where to be honest, I can hardly order a coffee and my ability of asking for cake with it involves saying "Kanne Ich........... [long pause as I point widely]...die kucken?" (Apologies to anyone who can actually speak German and is aware of the shocking language assault I just performed, please bare with me.) 

It might seem like a mad, hair-brained idea (my mother is less convinced it is now following several lengthy discussions about it over the last ten months) but I'm a believer of destiny and calling and I'm as sure as I can be that moving to Germany is part of an incredible plan for my life. Sure, if you'd told me three years ago that this is what 2012 would look like, I'd have probably thought you were, well, not altogether there, shall we say?

It certainly wasn't part of my original life plan dreamt up years ago when, aged about six, a teacher asked me what I wanted to be when I grew up. In that version of my life, I was probably the secret sixth member of the Famous Five, grew up on the dark Heathcliffian moors and could talk to any book character I pleased. Or I was a secret mutant human, part of Xavier's school for the gifted, best friends with Bill and Ted and able to ride any horse I wanted. I probably also told this teacher I wanted to be a jockey or a vet or a Thunderbird or something. I definitely never imagined living in another country (living in fiction was enough, obviously). Not until I was 13 at least and began to harbour desires of being a journalist in the Big Apple a la Sex In The City (although I had no idea who the heck Carrie Bradshaw was) did my life plan ever consider a bit of healthy emigration.

But now, now I'm actually alive in 2012 and it isn't some ethereal, slightly futuristic number given to a year in the distant future, now, I've come to realise that my life plan doesn't really matter. What matters is that I live in the destiny I've been called for. I cannot wait to live in Germany no matter how daunting it may seem. There's only one go at this life so I might as well give it my best shot and take the bull by the horns. 

You're welcome to join me for the ride.