Well, folks. It is official: in exactly 90 days I will leave the Vaterland and head back to my cozy little bubble of awesomeness that is the United States! I am starting to freak out a little, because I know the inevitable question on everyone's mind back in Idaho is "so, Sarah...are you fluent in German now"? The good thing is, given the lack of German speakers in Idaho, I can lie and say yes and spout a bunch of random words in German (coupled with my super sexy American accent...eye roll here) and no one will be any the wiser. Well, except for my German professors next semester, who will start babbling to me auf Deutsch and expect me to understand. I have a feeling they are going to get the same blank stare I give to everyone here. And then they will wonder just how big of an idiot I actually am.
But here is the question: can anyone just attain complete proficiency in another language in just a year? I mean, okay, I am sure there are people, but normal people? People like me, who may be a little past their prime? I wonder how things would have been different if I had gone to say, Spain. I think having a little bit of background to a language when you are younger is exponentially helpful. Jumping into a language like German...super smart, Sarah. Especially given the prevalence of Deutsch in the states. But I refuse to give up. I may not be fluent by the time I get back...hell, I might not even be able to understand people, but I am not giving up on German. And dammit all, if I have children, fuck a nice Hispanic nanny. Oh no. I am finding Helga von Teufel to whip those little bastards into shape. They will speak German. Maybe Chinese. Oh yes, future kids. Get your shit ready.
I have managed to plan the rest of my European adventures and I gotta say, there are some fun times in my future. München, Garmisch, Köln, Paris, Amsterdam, Berlin, San Sebastian. I am going to become a well-rounded, traveled Republican. And it will be glorious. And I am very excited about my sister and my friends coming to visit. It is nice to have something to look forward to every month; I think it will make the remainder of my time here go by a lot faster.
Oh, and tomorrow I am (hopefully) FINALLY going to get my hair cut. It has been 5 months, and anyone with fine, thinning hair knows that going 5 months without a haircut is pretty much on par with never eating vegetables. I look something scary right now...one side is way shorter than the other, and my layers are so not working. This should be a fun adventure! Holla!
Showing posts with label language barrier. Show all posts
Showing posts with label language barrier. Show all posts
Tuesday, May 17, 2011
Monday, January 31, 2011
Gingers are CREEPY...
Most people who know me fairly well know that I have a very low tolerance for children. I find them to be smelly, inquisitive to the point of annoying, relentless, restless, and needy. Now, I am not saying this holds true for all children; dare I say there have been kids I have met that I have actually liked, but they are so few and far between that it is safe to say that the majority of children just piss me off.
I find German children particularly abhorrent, mainly due to the way they stare unabashedly at anything and everyone. A while ago, I had a rather, we will use the word creepy, encounter with a scary looking German ginger child of about eight or nine. I can think of no worse combination: German AND a ginger. Gingers in and of themselves are socially awkward and weird; their bright red hair, light skin and lack of soul causes me severe angst and apprehension whenever I am within a five foot radius of them. Couple that with what I guess are considered German social norms, and it makes for one frightening clusterfuck of a human being.
I was sitting on the bus with my friend Brice, and Brice nudged me on the shoulder and said "that kid is giving you the stare-down." I looked over and gasped slightly as these blue eyes tried to pierce my soul, no doubt trying to steal it due to a lack of its own soul. This kid was literally staring at me so hard, I felt the hole burning through my skull. I looked away, but my gaze kept being drawn back to his, as though it was some sort of magnet. "What the fuck is this little bitch's problem" I asked Brice. You know, I thought, fuck this little kid. I proceeded to return the stare-down. And for two minutes, our eyes never left each others. The kid got off on the next stop, and I stared him down from inside the bus, and he proceeded to stare back at me. As the bus drove away, I pointed a menacing index finger at him and stuck my tongue out. Stupid little asshole.
After this incident, I became more cognizant of a certain fact: Germans stare at everyone. Everywhere. Today on the bus, this girl just kept staring at me for no reason. Every time I would look over, she would just be looking at me, like there was something hanging out of my nose. Now, I have been caught staring at people as well; normally this is because I have zoned out and am thinking about laying poolside naked with a mai thai and some Percocet, but as soon as the person I am staring at returns said stare, I look away. I think this is normal. No one wants to be caught staring at someone else. But the Germans? Oh no. They will just keep staring at you, even if you return the stare. It is the creepiest thing ever. Young people, old people, homeless people, students, prostitutes, whatever. It makes me wish I had some mace. I know one of these days, some fucker is going to be staring me down, and I will have had such a shitty day that I will stand up and scream "what the fuck are you looking at douche fucker?!" I just hope someone has a video camera.
This all came about because I had to go to the grocery store today, which I hate doing, mainly because I still have yet to figure out how to check out a cart. I think it is going to be one of those things I have to do when I am with other people. I think it is far worse to make an ass of yourself while you are alone. At least if you do something embarrassing when your friends are around, you can laugh about it. If you are alone, then you look like one of "those" people. Laughing at yourself is not an option; people just think you are either crazy or pathetic. So whenever I go grocery shopping alone, I either have to remember to bring a bag (oh, because they do not just GIVE you plastic bags to take your groceries home in, you have to pay for them) or I only buy a few items.
I then went to the bakery to pick up my bread. I am getting much better about understanding people, and by understanding I mean that if they just ask me the same questions each time, I am good to go. Occasionally, though, I get a person who has never helped me before, and she will shoot a bunch of random questions at me, and I just stare blankly and either say "langsam, bitte" or "Ich spreche nur Englisch." I went in today and some woman helped me who I had never seen before, and I politely said "ich hätte gern ein kleines schwarz Brot." She then launched into a series of questions and I was like "der...." Bakery girl (who I still have a small crush on, though not to the extent I did) came over from the other side of the store and told the woman I only spoke English, then went and got my bread for me (since, yeah, I get the same bread every single time). It is the little things in life, like someone recognizing that I suck at German and helping me not feel like an idiot, that makes my day. So Bakery girl, whose name I still do not know, thank you. You rock! Creepy girl who stared me down on the bus with the bad hair, fuck you. :)
I find German children particularly abhorrent, mainly due to the way they stare unabashedly at anything and everyone. A while ago, I had a rather, we will use the word creepy, encounter with a scary looking German ginger child of about eight or nine. I can think of no worse combination: German AND a ginger. Gingers in and of themselves are socially awkward and weird; their bright red hair, light skin and lack of soul causes me severe angst and apprehension whenever I am within a five foot radius of them. Couple that with what I guess are considered German social norms, and it makes for one frightening clusterfuck of a human being.
I was sitting on the bus with my friend Brice, and Brice nudged me on the shoulder and said "that kid is giving you the stare-down." I looked over and gasped slightly as these blue eyes tried to pierce my soul, no doubt trying to steal it due to a lack of its own soul. This kid was literally staring at me so hard, I felt the hole burning through my skull. I looked away, but my gaze kept being drawn back to his, as though it was some sort of magnet. "What the fuck is this little bitch's problem" I asked Brice. You know, I thought, fuck this little kid. I proceeded to return the stare-down. And for two minutes, our eyes never left each others. The kid got off on the next stop, and I stared him down from inside the bus, and he proceeded to stare back at me. As the bus drove away, I pointed a menacing index finger at him and stuck my tongue out. Stupid little asshole.
After this incident, I became more cognizant of a certain fact: Germans stare at everyone. Everywhere. Today on the bus, this girl just kept staring at me for no reason. Every time I would look over, she would just be looking at me, like there was something hanging out of my nose. Now, I have been caught staring at people as well; normally this is because I have zoned out and am thinking about laying poolside naked with a mai thai and some Percocet, but as soon as the person I am staring at returns said stare, I look away. I think this is normal. No one wants to be caught staring at someone else. But the Germans? Oh no. They will just keep staring at you, even if you return the stare. It is the creepiest thing ever. Young people, old people, homeless people, students, prostitutes, whatever. It makes me wish I had some mace. I know one of these days, some fucker is going to be staring me down, and I will have had such a shitty day that I will stand up and scream "what the fuck are you looking at douche fucker?!" I just hope someone has a video camera.
This all came about because I had to go to the grocery store today, which I hate doing, mainly because I still have yet to figure out how to check out a cart. I think it is going to be one of those things I have to do when I am with other people. I think it is far worse to make an ass of yourself while you are alone. At least if you do something embarrassing when your friends are around, you can laugh about it. If you are alone, then you look like one of "those" people. Laughing at yourself is not an option; people just think you are either crazy or pathetic. So whenever I go grocery shopping alone, I either have to remember to bring a bag (oh, because they do not just GIVE you plastic bags to take your groceries home in, you have to pay for them) or I only buy a few items.
I then went to the bakery to pick up my bread. I am getting much better about understanding people, and by understanding I mean that if they just ask me the same questions each time, I am good to go. Occasionally, though, I get a person who has never helped me before, and she will shoot a bunch of random questions at me, and I just stare blankly and either say "langsam, bitte" or "Ich spreche nur Englisch." I went in today and some woman helped me who I had never seen before, and I politely said "ich hätte gern ein kleines schwarz Brot." She then launched into a series of questions and I was like "der...." Bakery girl (who I still have a small crush on, though not to the extent I did) came over from the other side of the store and told the woman I only spoke English, then went and got my bread for me (since, yeah, I get the same bread every single time). It is the little things in life, like someone recognizing that I suck at German and helping me not feel like an idiot, that makes my day. So Bakery girl, whose name I still do not know, thank you. You rock! Creepy girl who stared me down on the bus with the bad hair, fuck you. :)
Tuesday, January 25, 2011
I hate Tuesdays (and other tales of woe)
I hate Tuesdays. I have always hated Tuesdays. Tuesdays could be my least favorite day ever. Even more so than Mondays. I mean, Monday at least feels like a fresh start...like Sunday. But Tuesdays? There is nothing good about Tuesdays. Crappy television, shitty drink specials. Basically, Tuesday ist scheiße.
I especially hate Tuesdays where I wake up and think "oh, fuck me. This is not going to be a good day." Anyone here take Ambien? Or any sort of sleeping aide? And you know, when it wears off after four hours, and you're awake at five a.m., groggy and feeling like someone has slipped something in your drink, and you feel that way for the rest of the morning? Yup, THAT is how my morning started out. Feeling like, I am sure, Lindsay Lohan feels every morning. Like the world has just shoved a large, barbed-wire wrapped bat up my hoohah. Fuck you, Ambien. Work like you are supposed to!
So an update on my money. The money was found. YAY! Apparently my mother, after asking my father to which account she should transfer the money, sent it to the University. (insert groan here). So yesterday evening, I received an email from my father informing me that I needed to go to the University and have them wire the lump sum to my account, because, well, it did not belong to them. I would like to thank my father for providing me with what I have deemed "learning opportunities" in Germany. Whereby fuck all happens and I have to try to fix it with a fucking language barrier and a short fuse. So thanks, pops! You are the best.
I met up with Katrin because, heaven forbid, I find myself in a situation where I am trying to play charades with some woman who doesn't speak English. Thankfully, one of the girls in the office did speak English. When I went in and told her I had a problem, she asked me what my name was. "Sarah Ober," I replied. She looked at me and said, "oh, your father has given us a great deal of money!" Wait, what?? These bitches knew that they had my money, on accident, and no one thought to contact me?? What the fuck is that?? So she led us down a hallway to another office, with two other women in it, and in German (by the way, I can understand German now) said "Oh, this is Sarah Ober." And the women in the office laughed. And she said "you are quite famous here." Fantastic. In addition to being groggy and irritable, I was now being openly mocked by German women.
With the click of a button, another women transferred all my money to MY German bank account. Why they could not have just called me last week and informed me of the snafoo, I do not know. Maybe because they, too, wanted to provide me with ample learning opportunities in Deutschland. Like trying to communicate with Stapler-dude at the bank. So far, I am down two points.
I managed to make it to class on time, which was good since I seem to be having quite a difficult time with that, and all things were going well. I even spoke GERMAN in my listening comprehension class. I was feeling quite proud of myself, like I was a fucking Deutsch God, until my grammar class. I think Frau Grigorieva just has a knack for bringing me down off Cloud 9 and bitch-slapping me in the taco (thanks, Glee, for my new favorite saying).
In four weeks, we have what the Studienkolleg calls the "E-test." This is very similar to the test I had at the beginning of the term back in August whereby they gauge our German comprehension and place us in a level of German accordingly. I would just like to state that despite the fact that my speaking skills may not be all that great (I hear my German friends snickering right now), I can actually read and write fairly proficiently. Understanding grammar rules has never been a problem of mine. Chalk it up to the English nerd in me. Once I learn a grammar rule, it usually sticks (at least as far as writing goes). So I know that, since August, I have become much better with German. Or at least so I thought. Frau Grigorieva handed out this sample test from 1994, just so we could get a feel for it, and I just stared at it, mouth agape. You know that fish market in Seattle on the Pier? Where they will throw a giant fish at you should you ask, in hopes that you will catch it just so you can say, fuck yes I caught a giant fish! Okay, now imagine that someone hurls a massive fucking 50 pound fish at you and instead of catching it, it hits you in the face. And you are left standing there, stunned with fish slime dripping down your face, reeking of two-week old vag...
That is how I felt at that exact moment.
WHAT THE FUCK DID THIS TEST EVEN SAY???
There were no words. No words. I wasnt even entirely sure what the directions were telling me. So I did what I do in all situations that I find uncomfortable: I started laughing uncontrollably. And Frau Grigorieva just looked at me and asked (I think, because it was auf Deutsch and I am far from a Deutsch God) "what is wrong, Sarah? A catastrophe? Why are you laughing?" Why am I laughing?? Why am I laughing?? Because my soul is slowly leaking out my butt! Because my will to live has been crushed! Because you are ruining my life woman!
So I am basically fucked. I hope I get placed at least a little bit above the level I am currently in. Maybe I should spend the month of February actually studying, and reading things other than Cosmo in German. Dammit all.
I was pretty much so distraught after my class that I did not want to leave my room. I wanted to hole up and watch "Bones" with my fucking rainbow chip frosting and perhaps a bottle of wine. Estelle invited me over, though, and made me dinner, which pretty much made me super, super happy (um, there were mashed potatoes involved. SUPER good mashed potatoes). And even though she told me that I am like a guy (pardon me?? Just because I cannot cook for shit, and maybe I fall asleep after I eat, does not mean that I do not have other valuable domestic skills. I can vacuum and dust like a mother fucker, thank you) I am feeling a little bit better about life, though I still think I am about to run a train on this can of frosting.
www.nataliedee.com
I especially hate Tuesdays where I wake up and think "oh, fuck me. This is not going to be a good day." Anyone here take Ambien? Or any sort of sleeping aide? And you know, when it wears off after four hours, and you're awake at five a.m., groggy and feeling like someone has slipped something in your drink, and you feel that way for the rest of the morning? Yup, THAT is how my morning started out. Feeling like, I am sure, Lindsay Lohan feels every morning. Like the world has just shoved a large, barbed-wire wrapped bat up my hoohah. Fuck you, Ambien. Work like you are supposed to!
So an update on my money. The money was found. YAY! Apparently my mother, after asking my father to which account she should transfer the money, sent it to the University. (insert groan here). So yesterday evening, I received an email from my father informing me that I needed to go to the University and have them wire the lump sum to my account, because, well, it did not belong to them. I would like to thank my father for providing me with what I have deemed "learning opportunities" in Germany. Whereby fuck all happens and I have to try to fix it with a fucking language barrier and a short fuse. So thanks, pops! You are the best.
I met up with Katrin because, heaven forbid, I find myself in a situation where I am trying to play charades with some woman who doesn't speak English. Thankfully, one of the girls in the office did speak English. When I went in and told her I had a problem, she asked me what my name was. "Sarah Ober," I replied. She looked at me and said, "oh, your father has given us a great deal of money!" Wait, what?? These bitches knew that they had my money, on accident, and no one thought to contact me?? What the fuck is that?? So she led us down a hallway to another office, with two other women in it, and in German (by the way, I can understand German now) said "Oh, this is Sarah Ober." And the women in the office laughed. And she said "you are quite famous here." Fantastic. In addition to being groggy and irritable, I was now being openly mocked by German women.
With the click of a button, another women transferred all my money to MY German bank account. Why they could not have just called me last week and informed me of the snafoo, I do not know. Maybe because they, too, wanted to provide me with ample learning opportunities in Deutschland. Like trying to communicate with Stapler-dude at the bank. So far, I am down two points.
I managed to make it to class on time, which was good since I seem to be having quite a difficult time with that, and all things were going well. I even spoke GERMAN in my listening comprehension class. I was feeling quite proud of myself, like I was a fucking Deutsch God, until my grammar class. I think Frau Grigorieva just has a knack for bringing me down off Cloud 9 and bitch-slapping me in the taco (thanks, Glee, for my new favorite saying).
In four weeks, we have what the Studienkolleg calls the "E-test." This is very similar to the test I had at the beginning of the term back in August whereby they gauge our German comprehension and place us in a level of German accordingly. I would just like to state that despite the fact that my speaking skills may not be all that great (I hear my German friends snickering right now), I can actually read and write fairly proficiently. Understanding grammar rules has never been a problem of mine. Chalk it up to the English nerd in me. Once I learn a grammar rule, it usually sticks (at least as far as writing goes). So I know that, since August, I have become much better with German. Or at least so I thought. Frau Grigorieva handed out this sample test from 1994, just so we could get a feel for it, and I just stared at it, mouth agape. You know that fish market in Seattle on the Pier? Where they will throw a giant fish at you should you ask, in hopes that you will catch it just so you can say, fuck yes I caught a giant fish! Okay, now imagine that someone hurls a massive fucking 50 pound fish at you and instead of catching it, it hits you in the face. And you are left standing there, stunned with fish slime dripping down your face, reeking of two-week old vag...
That is how I felt at that exact moment.
WHAT THE FUCK DID THIS TEST EVEN SAY???
There were no words. No words. I wasnt even entirely sure what the directions were telling me. So I did what I do in all situations that I find uncomfortable: I started laughing uncontrollably. And Frau Grigorieva just looked at me and asked (I think, because it was auf Deutsch and I am far from a Deutsch God) "what is wrong, Sarah? A catastrophe? Why are you laughing?" Why am I laughing?? Why am I laughing?? Because my soul is slowly leaking out my butt! Because my will to live has been crushed! Because you are ruining my life woman!
So I am basically fucked. I hope I get placed at least a little bit above the level I am currently in. Maybe I should spend the month of February actually studying, and reading things other than Cosmo in German. Dammit all.
I was pretty much so distraught after my class that I did not want to leave my room. I wanted to hole up and watch "Bones" with my fucking rainbow chip frosting and perhaps a bottle of wine. Estelle invited me over, though, and made me dinner, which pretty much made me super, super happy (um, there were mashed potatoes involved. SUPER good mashed potatoes). And even though she told me that I am like a guy (pardon me?? Just because I cannot cook for shit, and maybe I fall asleep after I eat, does not mean that I do not have other valuable domestic skills. I can vacuum and dust like a mother fucker, thank you) I am feeling a little bit better about life, though I still think I am about to run a train on this can of frosting.
www.nataliedee.com
Monday, January 24, 2011
adventures in international banking
Let me preface this blog by stating that yes, I am well aware that I am living in Germany, and that people here speak German, but COME ON. I mean, I figure if you are working someplace, like a bank that deals internationally, and everyone else in this fucking country speaks English (or Denglish, as we like to call it), then shouldn't you at least have a somewhat decent grasp on banking terminology in English? Especially since it took every iota of energy I had to smile politely and not leap across the desk and strangle you with your fucking non-cordless phone?!
From the beginning:
A week and a half ago, my wonderful, wonderful parents wired money to my German bank account so that I could pay rent. (And I do not want to hear anything from anyone about how my parents are sending me money). Anyway, last Wednesday, I got online to check the status of my account and, to my dismay, there was no money in there. Well what the fuck, I thought to myself. So I called my mother, explained the situation, and she called their bank in Idaho and demanded to know where the money was. The bank told her the money was in Deutschland. Awesome. So my mother informed me that I needed to go to the bank here in Germany and find out whose desk my money was loitering on. VIEL SPAß! The thing I love more than anything else is trying to have a conversation with someone about shit that actually matters, like money, in another language. It exhausts the fuck out of me and causes me to long for a big, tall beer.
So today, I went to the bank after class to get all this sorted out. I was waiting in line when this kind-looking, officious old German dude came up to me and barked something at me in German. I politely explained that I did not speak much German, but that I had a problem with my bank account (case in point, I did this in German). He looked at me like I had a third nipple growing in the center of my forehead, walked away and came back three minutes later with this other guy, who sort of looked like the Stapler-guy from "Office Space."
"Diese damen aus America," he said "spricht nur English. Kein Deutsch." Sweet. So apparently my German is atrocious enough that this guy recognized that I was some dumb-ass American trying to speak German. At least he couldn't pin-point the state, or I would have been embarrassed.
Office Space guy informs me that he only speaks a little English, but he will try to help me. Fan-fucking-tastic. Define a little English? Like, on a scale from "I can say fuck off" to "I can say fuck off and then explain existentialism and the meaning of life" where, sir, do you lie? I would say in normal conversation, this dude would probably be a 5 or a 6. But as far as banking terminology goes, I felt like I was trying to explain the concept of wiring money in English to a four-year-old with dyslexia and ADHD. UGH.
From what I gathered, Germany does not know where my money is. He kept saying, your parents did it wrong, the money is still in their account, and I kept insisting that no, buddy, the money is NOT in their account (I think I used the term "credited" which probably threw him right the fuck off), and that the bank in America says the money is most definitely over here in Deutschland, but he just kept looking at me all wide-eyed, like I was some sort of alien slobbering all over myself. He printed off some fucking paper and told me that my parents had to do it again, this time wiring the money to the following numbers. Yeah, okay...what about the other lump sum of money just floating around in nomads land? Just forget about it? Oh yeah, because, you know, money grows on trees in America. When we need it, we just grab our baskets and walk out back and climb up the ol ladder and pick as much as we need. If we decide to wire it internationally and some gets lost along the way, that is okay! The government will give us more money trees!
So yeah, on the list of things I can now cross off my bucket list: lose money internationally and talk with guy who looks like dude from Office Space about intermediaries and debit and credits.
Oh, and speaking of awesome German conversations, I ran into my conversation instructor on the bus, whose class I have not attended in, well, months. It is only twice a month, but it is at 8:00 a.m. Monday morning, and unless my ass is getting paid to be awake that early, I am going to reset my alarm for 9:45. Anyway, she wanted to know why I had not been in class, and of course she asked me in German, but I answered in English, which led to a lovely 15 minute conversation about my life and what the fuck I was doing. What a nice lady. Maybe I will try to make it to her class next week.
From the beginning:
A week and a half ago, my wonderful, wonderful parents wired money to my German bank account so that I could pay rent. (And I do not want to hear anything from anyone about how my parents are sending me money). Anyway, last Wednesday, I got online to check the status of my account and, to my dismay, there was no money in there. Well what the fuck, I thought to myself. So I called my mother, explained the situation, and she called their bank in Idaho and demanded to know where the money was. The bank told her the money was in Deutschland. Awesome. So my mother informed me that I needed to go to the bank here in Germany and find out whose desk my money was loitering on. VIEL SPAß! The thing I love more than anything else is trying to have a conversation with someone about shit that actually matters, like money, in another language. It exhausts the fuck out of me and causes me to long for a big, tall beer.
So today, I went to the bank after class to get all this sorted out. I was waiting in line when this kind-looking, officious old German dude came up to me and barked something at me in German. I politely explained that I did not speak much German, but that I had a problem with my bank account (case in point, I did this in German). He looked at me like I had a third nipple growing in the center of my forehead, walked away and came back three minutes later with this other guy, who sort of looked like the Stapler-guy from "Office Space."
"Diese damen aus America," he said "spricht nur English. Kein Deutsch." Sweet. So apparently my German is atrocious enough that this guy recognized that I was some dumb-ass American trying to speak German. At least he couldn't pin-point the state, or I would have been embarrassed.
Office Space guy informs me that he only speaks a little English, but he will try to help me. Fan-fucking-tastic. Define a little English? Like, on a scale from "I can say fuck off" to "I can say fuck off and then explain existentialism and the meaning of life" where, sir, do you lie? I would say in normal conversation, this dude would probably be a 5 or a 6. But as far as banking terminology goes, I felt like I was trying to explain the concept of wiring money in English to a four-year-old with dyslexia and ADHD. UGH.
From what I gathered, Germany does not know where my money is. He kept saying, your parents did it wrong, the money is still in their account, and I kept insisting that no, buddy, the money is NOT in their account (I think I used the term "credited" which probably threw him right the fuck off), and that the bank in America says the money is most definitely over here in Deutschland, but he just kept looking at me all wide-eyed, like I was some sort of alien slobbering all over myself. He printed off some fucking paper and told me that my parents had to do it again, this time wiring the money to the following numbers. Yeah, okay...what about the other lump sum of money just floating around in nomads land? Just forget about it? Oh yeah, because, you know, money grows on trees in America. When we need it, we just grab our baskets and walk out back and climb up the ol ladder and pick as much as we need. If we decide to wire it internationally and some gets lost along the way, that is okay! The government will give us more money trees!
So yeah, on the list of things I can now cross off my bucket list: lose money internationally and talk with guy who looks like dude from Office Space about intermediaries and debit and credits.
Oh, and speaking of awesome German conversations, I ran into my conversation instructor on the bus, whose class I have not attended in, well, months. It is only twice a month, but it is at 8:00 a.m. Monday morning, and unless my ass is getting paid to be awake that early, I am going to reset my alarm for 9:45. Anyway, she wanted to know why I had not been in class, and of course she asked me in German, but I answered in English, which led to a lovely 15 minute conversation about my life and what the fuck I was doing. What a nice lady. Maybe I will try to make it to her class next week.
Friday, December 3, 2010
Language schmanguage
First off, I would like someone to explain to me why there are dance clubs open in Saarbrücken on a Thursday night until the wee hours of the morning. Really? It is Thursday! I feel like my old age is finally catching up to me, and not being the young lass I once was, staying out and partying until the sun comes up on a school night is kicking my ass. Ah, remember when we were all once young and had livers like champion Deutsch beer drinkers? Yeah, those days are long gone.
Yesterday was one of those shitty German speaking days, and I felt like I only understood about 20% of what was going on around me. See, I have good days and I have bad days. On the good days, I feel like I am finally understanding German: when people talk to me, I know exactly (okay, sort of) what they are saying, and I can answer with some degree of certainty. On the bad days, though. Ugh. I just want to stay in my room and watch "Glee" in English and drink hot chocolate. People start talking and I follow for about 10 seconds before I stare past them up at the sky. "Oh look, a bird." And then comes the moment of truth when there is a slight rise in the other persons voice at the end of their sentence, indicating that I am supposed to say something. That is about the point where I get that dumbfounded look on my face (you know, the one ADD kids get when they have just been caught with their faces plastered against the windows staring at God only knows what) and ask "Was"? And I love the question "Verstehst du"? Yeah, nein. Not at all. This seemed to happen on a fairly consistent basis yesterday.
But I realized something talking (playing charades) with Estelle: I have been accused of being lazy for not speaking more German here, but it is not because I am lazy. It is because I am embarrassed (well, okay, I am slightly lazy, but come on. Sometimes a good ol English quip really drives the point home). Estelle told me she doesn't speak English much because she thinks she sounds bad. Christ, I KNOW I sound like shit when I speak German, so I opt to take the easy road and speak English. Because I get embarrassed. Because I hate it when I talk and people cannot understand me. It is very frustrating to be THIS old and have the communication skills of a three year old. It is even worse when people get annoyed or impatient or what have you because then YOU feel like sheiße. I only speak German around Estelle, I guess mainly because yeah, she does not speak English, but also because somehow, she understands me, and I don't feel like a giant asshole when I talk. Fuck, I am surprised she understands me at all. Even though sentences feel backwards to me, I am sure me translating a sentence from English to German and using the English construct of that sentence is fucking ridiculous to the Germans. Why cant German be like Spanish???
But it is easy for me to forget that I am not the only person in the world that is having this problem. I am not the first person to feel like an ass when I speak another language. THIS is not my native language! Lord, it feels more times than not that it is not even close to English! If I could be fluent in a language after three months, I would move to a new country four times a year.
Oh, also, I switched my keyboard from English to German so I could type the umlauts with more ease. But fuck if I can find the apostrophe key now. So I don't want any of you to think that I am making grammatical errors. I never make grammatical errors (haha). I just cant find the fucking key, and spellcheck does not always catch it.
Okay, I am off to pack. We are going to Nuremberg today. I am pretty damn stoked about this!
Yesterday was one of those shitty German speaking days, and I felt like I only understood about 20% of what was going on around me. See, I have good days and I have bad days. On the good days, I feel like I am finally understanding German: when people talk to me, I know exactly (okay, sort of) what they are saying, and I can answer with some degree of certainty. On the bad days, though. Ugh. I just want to stay in my room and watch "Glee" in English and drink hot chocolate. People start talking and I follow for about 10 seconds before I stare past them up at the sky. "Oh look, a bird." And then comes the moment of truth when there is a slight rise in the other persons voice at the end of their sentence, indicating that I am supposed to say something. That is about the point where I get that dumbfounded look on my face (you know, the one ADD kids get when they have just been caught with their faces plastered against the windows staring at God only knows what) and ask "Was"? And I love the question "Verstehst du"? Yeah, nein. Not at all. This seemed to happen on a fairly consistent basis yesterday.
But I realized something talking (playing charades) with Estelle: I have been accused of being lazy for not speaking more German here, but it is not because I am lazy. It is because I am embarrassed (well, okay, I am slightly lazy, but come on. Sometimes a good ol English quip really drives the point home). Estelle told me she doesn't speak English much because she thinks she sounds bad. Christ, I KNOW I sound like shit when I speak German, so I opt to take the easy road and speak English. Because I get embarrassed. Because I hate it when I talk and people cannot understand me. It is very frustrating to be THIS old and have the communication skills of a three year old. It is even worse when people get annoyed or impatient or what have you because then YOU feel like sheiße. I only speak German around Estelle, I guess mainly because yeah, she does not speak English, but also because somehow, she understands me, and I don't feel like a giant asshole when I talk. Fuck, I am surprised she understands me at all. Even though sentences feel backwards to me, I am sure me translating a sentence from English to German and using the English construct of that sentence is fucking ridiculous to the Germans. Why cant German be like Spanish???
But it is easy for me to forget that I am not the only person in the world that is having this problem. I am not the first person to feel like an ass when I speak another language. THIS is not my native language! Lord, it feels more times than not that it is not even close to English! If I could be fluent in a language after three months, I would move to a new country four times a year.
Oh, also, I switched my keyboard from English to German so I could type the umlauts with more ease. But fuck if I can find the apostrophe key now. So I don't want any of you to think that I am making grammatical errors. I never make grammatical errors (haha). I just cant find the fucking key, and spellcheck does not always catch it.
Okay, I am off to pack. We are going to Nuremberg today. I am pretty damn stoked about this!
Tuesday, November 30, 2010
oh, Weihnachten...
First off, it is cold. Lets just get that out of the way now. There is a ridiculous amount of snow on the ground, the sidewalks are frozen over, and I am eating like a bear preparing for hibernation. I am fairly certain that I have gained at least 10 pounds in the past week. At this rate, I am going to need to purchase another seat to fly back to the states in 2 weeks. And I wish that were me being factitious.
I have also switched my keyboard over to the German keyboard, so it is easier for me to write things like ä and ß and ö. The problem now is that I cannot find other keys I once used. Like the apostrophe. Where the HELL is it? And the z and the y are backwards. My brain does not seem to want to process this. So I keep writing mz instead of my. Awesome.
But I will say this: despite the fact that it is freezing and despite the fact that my ass is now up for its own zip code, I love this time of year. Especially here in Germany. It is so beautiful. And the Weihnachtsmarkts (Christmas Markets)? Dear America: take a clue from Germany and start setting these up. And get some glühwein. I feel like my life up to this point has been incomplete, and that missing piece was glühwein. I cannot even begin to describe the awesomeness that is this hot German Christmas drink. I wish I could bring some back home with me.
Last weekend we went to the Weihnachtsmarkts in Heidelberg, which is one of the most beautiful cities I have ever seen. I really want to go back in the spring when it is not freezing and spend longer than a day there. I will be putting pictures up soon in another blog, as I am far too lazy right now to upload and photo edit all of them. Yeah, I said it. But this weekend, we are going to Nuremberg, which has one of the most famous Weihnachtsmarkts in the world. I am pretty damn stoked about this. I am doing the majority of my Christmas gift shopping there. Hopefully I can fit everything in my suitcase.
In other news, I actually found a German who doesn't speak much English, and she doesn't mind talking to me in German, even though I am sure I make absolutely no sense. It is very nice for me, though, because most of the time, Germans do not want to wait for me to figure out how to say something in German, or if I do not understand, they start speaking English. But because Estelle doesn't speak much English, I basically have to figure out how to say what I want to say in German, and this has been awesome. I feel like in the past week Ive spoken more German than I have in the four months I have been here. Not to mention she is one of the only Germans I have met that I understand the majority of the time. If she says something I do not understand, she will explain it to me differently. If that doesn't work then yes, we use google translate. But given how shitty my German is, I am so grateful that she is so patient with me. I don't feel like a giant asshole when I talk with her, which has been my biggest problem here. Oh, not to mention, she is actually my age and she drinks like me. I have found my German twin!
And we have now reached less than 20 days on the "Sarah returns to America" countdown. I am so excited to see my friends and family. I have missed everyone so much. Lets hope I don't forget all the Deutsch I have learned.
I have also switched my keyboard over to the German keyboard, so it is easier for me to write things like ä and ß and ö. The problem now is that I cannot find other keys I once used. Like the apostrophe. Where the HELL is it? And the z and the y are backwards. My brain does not seem to want to process this. So I keep writing mz instead of my. Awesome.
But I will say this: despite the fact that it is freezing and despite the fact that my ass is now up for its own zip code, I love this time of year. Especially here in Germany. It is so beautiful. And the Weihnachtsmarkts (Christmas Markets)? Dear America: take a clue from Germany and start setting these up. And get some glühwein. I feel like my life up to this point has been incomplete, and that missing piece was glühwein. I cannot even begin to describe the awesomeness that is this hot German Christmas drink. I wish I could bring some back home with me.
Last weekend we went to the Weihnachtsmarkts in Heidelberg, which is one of the most beautiful cities I have ever seen. I really want to go back in the spring when it is not freezing and spend longer than a day there. I will be putting pictures up soon in another blog, as I am far too lazy right now to upload and photo edit all of them. Yeah, I said it. But this weekend, we are going to Nuremberg, which has one of the most famous Weihnachtsmarkts in the world. I am pretty damn stoked about this. I am doing the majority of my Christmas gift shopping there. Hopefully I can fit everything in my suitcase.
In other news, I actually found a German who doesn't speak much English, and she doesn't mind talking to me in German, even though I am sure I make absolutely no sense. It is very nice for me, though, because most of the time, Germans do not want to wait for me to figure out how to say something in German, or if I do not understand, they start speaking English. But because Estelle doesn't speak much English, I basically have to figure out how to say what I want to say in German, and this has been awesome. I feel like in the past week Ive spoken more German than I have in the four months I have been here. Not to mention she is one of the only Germans I have met that I understand the majority of the time. If she says something I do not understand, she will explain it to me differently. If that doesn't work then yes, we use google translate. But given how shitty my German is, I am so grateful that she is so patient with me. I don't feel like a giant asshole when I talk with her, which has been my biggest problem here. Oh, not to mention, she is actually my age and she drinks like me. I have found my German twin!
And we have now reached less than 20 days on the "Sarah returns to America" countdown. I am so excited to see my friends and family. I have missed everyone so much. Lets hope I don't forget all the Deutsch I have learned.
Wednesday, November 10, 2010
damn you, language barrier!
Okay, this whole language barrier and my inability to communicate with people is really getting in the way of my social life--more specifically, my ability to flirt with any sort of success. Here is the problem: Ich weiß die Worter in Deutsch, aber Ich kann nicht mit diesem Worter satzbildung . (Ha ha, because that sentence will be an indication of just how much I suck at German). So I'm amassing a ridiculous vocabulary of German words, but I can't construct them into a sentence that makes any sort of sense. German is backwards from English--the conjugated verb stays with the subject, but all subsequent verbs come at the end of the sentence. And there are all these rules for when you use conjunctions and the placement of the verbs, or whether or not words are in the nomativ, dativ, oder akkusativ. Basically, I want to tear my hair out. And throw my hands up and quit. Or drink a beer.
I mean, really...I've been here almost three months and I'm still having a shit time talking with anyone in German. I can write it just fine because I can actually sit here and go over what I've written to find my mistakes, but having an actual conversation with someone gets incredibly overwhelming. And that's of course assuming I can even follow what they are saying in the first place.
So yeah, let's be honest (I don't think my mom reads my blog anyway). I have a bit of a crush on the girl who works at the bakery I go to all the time (may be an understatement). And I'd like to clarify that I don't just go there all the time because she works there--their breads and pastries are heavenly. Her working there is just an added little bonus. Anyway, all the women that work in this bakery are extremely nice, and they deal with my inability to talk to them, which is awesome. I mean, how much vocabulary do you need to know to ask someone for a pastry? (Well, try to pronounce the word "Apfelkrapfe." I failed. And the woman thought it was hilarious. I sound like such an asshole sometimes, ha ha).
Anyway, yes, so I have a crush on this girl. And I know absolutely nothing about her. Why? Because I can't freaking ask questions in German because it takes me hours to say anything in German. I don't even know her name! I know she at least recognizes me because she always smiles when I come in, and recognizes the fact that I don't speak German because she helps me with my vocabulary (like today's awesome bout of charades when I couldn't remember the effing word for to cut, which, btw, is schneiden and a word I am entirely familiar with), but come on. I feel like this whole crush is entirely irrational and a bit pointless. I have no idea if she is single or in a relationship, or if the door even swings that way. And I don't know how to find out any of this information! I was determined today to at least find out her name, but I got so flustered trying to piece the rest of my German together when ordering my bread, that it was just a lost cause. I fail. I fail so hard. Jesus, at home if I am this hung up on someone, I can flirt like there is no tomorrow. I can be cute and smart and funny and all that shit, but not here. Not at all. I just come across as some dumb-ass American with an inability to talk beyond the level of a three-year-old. So I'm either going to have to buck up and learn some German stat, or watch my midsection expand for the next few months.
Blah.
I mean, really...I've been here almost three months and I'm still having a shit time talking with anyone in German. I can write it just fine because I can actually sit here and go over what I've written to find my mistakes, but having an actual conversation with someone gets incredibly overwhelming. And that's of course assuming I can even follow what they are saying in the first place.
So yeah, let's be honest (I don't think my mom reads my blog anyway). I have a bit of a crush on the girl who works at the bakery I go to all the time (may be an understatement). And I'd like to clarify that I don't just go there all the time because she works there--their breads and pastries are heavenly. Her working there is just an added little bonus. Anyway, all the women that work in this bakery are extremely nice, and they deal with my inability to talk to them, which is awesome. I mean, how much vocabulary do you need to know to ask someone for a pastry? (Well, try to pronounce the word "Apfelkrapfe." I failed. And the woman thought it was hilarious. I sound like such an asshole sometimes, ha ha).
Anyway, yes, so I have a crush on this girl. And I know absolutely nothing about her. Why? Because I can't freaking ask questions in German because it takes me hours to say anything in German. I don't even know her name! I know she at least recognizes me because she always smiles when I come in, and recognizes the fact that I don't speak German because she helps me with my vocabulary (like today's awesome bout of charades when I couldn't remember the effing word for to cut, which, btw, is schneiden and a word I am entirely familiar with), but come on. I feel like this whole crush is entirely irrational and a bit pointless. I have no idea if she is single or in a relationship, or if the door even swings that way. And I don't know how to find out any of this information! I was determined today to at least find out her name, but I got so flustered trying to piece the rest of my German together when ordering my bread, that it was just a lost cause. I fail. I fail so hard. Jesus, at home if I am this hung up on someone, I can flirt like there is no tomorrow. I can be cute and smart and funny and all that shit, but not here. Not at all. I just come across as some dumb-ass American with an inability to talk beyond the level of a three-year-old. So I'm either going to have to buck up and learn some German stat, or watch my midsection expand for the next few months.
Blah.
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