At the Gym in Germany

It may seem to you that I am in desperate need of a calendar this Christmas, because I clearly can't differentiate between Wednesday and Thursday. Have no fear; I was just making the best of 12.12.12. No, actually, I thought I'd give myself 24 hours before posting about the latest culture-shock encounters I've had.

Fortunately, I'm a high-energy kind of person, so the best way to control the excess amount of energy is to go to the gym. Of course, here in Germany, that place is not commonly referred to as "the voluntary torture chamber", but the fitness studio.

I don't like to chat when working out. Unfortunately, I am hypersensitive, and my hearing, sense of smell and touch are especially acute. This is not advantageous, especially when working out at a public gym. For this reason, I checked the "not-interested" box on the questionnaire when asked if I would like to get to know more people when working out. Don't get me wrong, I love to meet new people; I just do not love smelling new people, especially sweaty, stinky ones. The last session, I had to move from my favorite machine to less-appealing one due to a man who reeked horribly. Even the sensorial memory of him has me gagging and cringing. This reaction is not polite, but, in my defense, it is also primarily out of my control.

A friend of mine also works out there; the inevitable time when we would meet finally came, and yes, it was awkward. Likely because I had never told him that I'm also at the gym, and when I saw him, he greeted me with a smile, prepared to exchange a few verbal niceties, whereas I merely returned a terse hello, averted my eyes and kept working out. Of course later, I contacted him explaining that when I'm in my zone, I am not at all the radiant social butterfly that I typically am. He said he understood, which I hope is true. I also forewarned him that if, for whatever cockamamie reason I should decide to go into the unisex portion of the sauna and we should meet, I will literally run away. See, in addition to those other keen senses, I have a pretty vivid visual memory as well. Woe to me should I put myself in a situation where I could possibly see my buddy's kibbles and bits.

You think I jest, but I once went into a steam bath there (wearing a towel - I am unabashedly prudish when it comes to public nudity; I will wear my towel in a sauna or steam bath no matter what you say). To my chagrin, I walked in on one of the personal trainers sitting on the bank, legs up, al natural. Yeah. Stunned, awkward silence initially, and then once he had the decency to put his legs down and I found my voice again, I just said something to the effect of "Ummm, I think I'll come back later." (Which I never, ever did.) But, to my advantage, I'd like to believe; I've been able to get some pretty nice deals from him since then. Can't say for sure, but it may have been because of that one moment in time…

My last session there was actually almost just as awkward. Remember what it felt like when you were in gym class in middle school or high school? Well, it's not much better at my gym. Most of us women are modest and turn away while dressing or, whenever possible, search for the least prominent place in the dressing room. Ladies, you know how it is. Well, I had just returned to my locker, and a woman was just finishing getting ready for her workout. I turned away and went about my business. Just then, another woman came in, stopped walking, and leaned against the wall, watching the two of us.

What in the world?

For those of you who know me, this is pretty much exactly what the look on my face was saying. There was no way on God's green goodness that I was about to disrobe, no matter how sweaty and gross I felt.

"Hallo… müssen Sie durch zu Ihrem Schließfach?" (Do you need to pass through to get to your locker?) I was pointed and specific in my query.

She smiled at me, still staring at us both. "Ach, nein. Machen Sie ruhig weiter!" (Oh, no. Just keep doing what you're doing!)

The hell I will.

I looked at her, looked back at my sweaty gym outfit and the towel I was going to wear to the showers. You know what? I said to myself. I think I can change in one of those teeny-tiny restroom stalls. Anywhere else would be more comfortable than there. As I was gathering my things, the woman tried to start a conversation. She asked the other woman what machine she liked best. The woman, wearing one shoe and holding the other in her hand, replied the treadmill, then somehow managed to wobble away faster than I could escape. Chatty Cathy then turned to me. "I can't wait for spring to come; can you? Then we don't have to wear all of these layers of clothes…" She stopped and then stared directly at me, expectantly, one hand pulling up her sweater and the other tugging at her pants.

My gag reflex is pretty good, I think, so I had that under control; yet, I couldn't suppress a small shudder of repulsion. Seriously, I don't talk to my friends when I'm in a gym. What would posses me to start a conversation with a staring stranger in the dressing room? I quickly mumbled, "Spring is great." before I escaped to the restroom stall, far away from my locker. Chalk another one up for socially awkward encounters abroad for CountryEuroCityMouse.

Ok, Chatty Cathy, I just have some words of advice for you. I don't think you're weird - wait, actually, yes, I do - but I mean, I don't think that you're a weirdo voyeur or something. I hope not. I would really like to think that you are a socially awkward person and you're trying to work on your friendship-making skills. Good for you for being brave and taking chances! However, when striking up random, pointless small talk, please refrain from doing so in the women's locker room with other women in various states of sweatiness and undress. This is NEVER the appropriate place for this kind of behavior. And staring is a perpetual no-go. If you would like to make friends, go to one of the classes that they offer with a star by it for "socially-engaging", or talk to someone who matches your stare just as excitedly as yours.

I tell you, boredom is a rare luxury here.

Happy Holidays, everyone!

xoxo CountryEuroCityMouse

©2012 CountryEuroCityMouse™. All rights reserved.

Old-Fashioned Mail

It's been a while, but I decided to take the time to write to one of my oldest friends. By writing, I do not mean posting on her Facebook wall or sending her an email. I actually mean to write a letter to her using old-fashioned pen and paper, and I will seal it in an envelope, mail it with a stamp and then wait ages for a response of the same kind.

It's a dying art, and in so many ways, unfortunately, I can see why. What exactly am I supposed to say in a letter that can't be shared via social media? Over the past few years, we've all been conditioned to say things that we find to be important, meaningful and poignant in 140 characters or less. The act of writing a letter is beginning to feel awkward to me, and I'm sad to say that of the few friends I have who make a concerted effort to write a letter now and then, our letters tend to get shorter and shorter as it seems that we have less and less to say.

Maybe it's a matter of impatience - when we have some really great news to share, we will hop online and blast it ASAP. We communicate quite regularly and even phone on occassion. But what happens to the days when you look in your mailbox and notice a lovely handwritten envelope among the not so appealing mail?

It's a trend that, in my opinion, is becoming more of a catostrophic practice. People have even stopped sending Christmas cards or Holiday Greetings of any kind! I understand that it's time-consuming or possibly expensive (if you don't make your own - which I don't), but the whole purpose of sending a greeting card is to show someone that you actually do care or appreciate them exactly because you take the time to send them something tangible. E-Greeting cards are convenient and "get the job done", but at what expense? You either send out a mass-email ("You're so special to me - all of you") or you copy and paste, replacing the name but send the exact same message. All of the romance of communicating through words using individualized physicality - your handwriting - is almost completely gone.

This season only comes around once a year, and for those of you who have friends and loved ones who are far away from home (either by choice or circumstances beyond their control), when thinking about sending your Holiday Greetings, it's especially nice to put that adage "'Tis better to give than to receive" to good use. I know I feel that way about advice. ;-)

xoxo CountryEuroCityMouse

©2012 CountryEuroCityMouse™. All rights reserved.

An English German Christmas Market (Weihnachtsmarkt)

Now that my most favorite holiday has already passed, I'm looking forward to celebrating my second most favorite holiday - Christmas. Let it be known that on Christmas Day, I'm in Florida. While you're out and about dreaming about a White Christmas, I'm ever grateful to be with my husband and family in a place where having BBQ in addition to the traditional holiday meal is a viable option.

One Christmas morning a few years back, my husband hoisted our nephew up on his shoulders so that the little guy could pluck an orange from my parents' tree in the front yard. I took a picture to commemorate the moment and it still makes me smile every time I see him wearing a little long-sleeved shirt and a pair of green shorts. Yep, to me, that's Christmas.

Not to say that I don't get my fill of German Christmas spirit before going to warmer places. Because I live in a very Catholic region of the country, Adventszeit is a very prominently celebrated time of year here. So, in addition to the decorations which have been up since SEPTEMBER in some stores (thanks to gross consumerism, and nothing else), the real celebrations are about to take place. One tradition that I truly enjoy and admire is the Weihnachtsmarkt, or German Christmas Market.

There is always a great possibility for you to eat, meet up with friends, drink mulled wine (Glühwein or vin chaud) or my personal favorite, the alcohol-free version often referred to as being "Christmas Punch", or shop for some lovely handmade crafts and other gifts. Nothing beats holding a nice warm punch in your hands in a wintry atmosphere, twinkling lights surrounding you above and below, laughter, animated conversations with strangers and friends alike, and almost everyone being in much more amicable moods.

Interestingly, we discovered a German Christmas Market along the Thames in London this past weekend. It was a fun and pleasant surprise to be able to kick off another chapter of the holiday season a little bit earlier than planned, especially because it also gave my parents another great opportunity to experience new German traditions in two European countries!

It's time to get those UNICEF greeting cards (or those from your favorite charity), and place those orders online - or better yet, with your favorite local mom and pop retailers… they do still exist, and with all of our help, they'll continue to do so.

Take care, and have a great week.

xoxo CountryEuroCityMouse

©2012 CountryEuroCityMouse™. All rights reserved.

Happy Thanksgiving!

Thanksgiving is my absolutely favorite holiday. There are so many reasons why I totally love this event, and I don't care where I live or who I'm with - I'm bound to celebrate this day with joy, gratitude and excitement.

Celebrating Thanksgiving in Germany can really be an awesome experience. For me, it always has been. I love throwing dinner parties, and although they may seem a tad bit semi-formal at times (although, in my defense, there have only been a few times where I have actually used seating placements), most of the time, I try to make them as relaxing and welcoming as possible for all. When I was at the point where we were 19 people, including 5 children under the age of five, I drew the limit and decided to keep it between 4 and 10 from now on.

My husband and I celebrated with friends last year; this year, my parents are visiting us for the holiday! I'm convinced it's going to be the perfect American Thanksgiving - we'll celebrate Thursday evening in Germany, and then fly to London on Friday for the weekend. No better way to remember why the pilgrims were so thankful in the first place than on British soil.

In preparation for Thursday's feast, we're taking complete advantage of Germany's fresh, economical and delicious local markets. We bought 4.5 pounds (2 kg) of potatoes for a Euro 50! Afterwards, we ordered our turkey from our favorite poultry butcher, so we'll be able to pick it up early Thursday morning along with all of the fresh vegetables! Our menu is pretty straightforward, simple, and best of all, homemade. In addition to the must-have turkey, we'll have dressing, mashed baked garlic potatoes, salad, almond string beans, traditional gravy, cheese gravy, macaroni and cheese made with ricotta and three other cheeses, and cherry pie, muffins, rolls and brownies for breads and desserts. Yep, I hope that'll do.

It's such an exhilarating feeling preparing delicious foods and desserts for your family and friends, sitting at one huge extended table that generally only serves two, and knowing that the Christmas season is now really about to begin.

Of course, many people still proclaim that their most favorite holiday is Christmas; and there are many others who feel as though it is an infringement on their faith or lack thereof… To be quite honest, it would be quite lovely to have a holiday that can't be too grossly politicized or commercialized - no matter how hard many people try. For me, Thanksgiving is that holiday. I love focusing on the amazing cooking, enjoying the cold weather outside and the warmth and delicious scents that greet you as soon as you come through the door. There is a feeling of welcome, and as soon as you arrive, laughter erupts immediately followed by boisterous conversation, hugs and smiles. You're with your friends and family, and those few hours - or days if you're fortunate - are, in my opinion, a wonderful way to get a refill on the energetic goodness that Life is really all about.

Happy Thanksgiving with love from Germany!

xoxo CountryEuroCityMouse

©2012 CountryEuroCityMouse™. All rights reserved.

Eat There if You Dare (But I Wouldn't Recommend the Gyros)

Finally! The 2012 US Presidential Election is over.

Currently, the overwhelming feeling that I have is relief. Obama was fired up during his victory speech, and with it, he set the tone for the nation in a way that all parties need to embrace. The kind of deep passions that were awakened within us voters throughout the campaign need to shift from the negative nature to a more constructive gestalt. We are so much better than this campaign has allowed us to be portrayed.

This has been the most nerve-wracking, disturbing, emotionally charged election I have ever experienced in my life. Waaaaayyyy back in 2008, I can recall the media jumping the gun and being so self-congratulatory calling President Obama’s first-term victory the beginning of a “post-racial America”. Well, they couldn’t have been more wrong than that. This election campaign was not only starkly racially divided; it was also impassioned and divisional on so many incredibly polarizing issues. It was often sickening to hear, read and see such animosity and distain between supporters of the two major parties and smaller parties. These election years tend to bring out the best and the worst in people, but it’s especially disturbing to notice that more and more people are becoming quite comfortable with being beyond disrespectful publicly on any side of the fence.

The real threats of being wrongfully denied the right to vote, or to have to wait multiple hours in line to cast a ballot, or to be afraid that your vote would not count in the United States of America is a disgrace. The name-calling, mud-slinging swill fest has got to come to an end now, especially for those who disrespect the President with such ease and comfort.

In his concession speech, Mr. Mitt Romney took the high road – a path that many people on both sides have strayed far away from a long time ago. He was gracious, he acknowledged his genuine sense of disappointment and gratefulness for his supporters, and wished his opponent well and encouraged people to pray for the President, his family and our nation. As divided as the nation is now, Romney’s concession speech – however short and, according to reports, hastily put together – at least allowed him to march through it quickly and be able to walk away with his head held high. (Even if it took him over 90 minutes to admit his loss and, acknowledge that no matter how Karl Rove tried to reinvent it, math is math.)

Obama’s victory speech rocked. It was not cocky; it was personal, inspirational, impassioned and spoken with much hope, earnestness and maturity. Take the time to read the full text of his speech, but moreover, watch it. See how it resonates with you, no matter what your political affiliation or nationality.

Florida… my home state. The only “undeclared” state even though the election has already been decided. (*Sigh*)

Facebook: Please stop asking me to “like” candidates, their companies, and the news outlets that chose to endorse them. Actually, stop instructing me to “like” anything. I never went for that kind of stuff in high school, and I certainly don’t plan on starting now.

Now, for all of us (in one capacity or another), it’s time to get back to work.

 xoxo CountryEuroCityMouse

©2012 CountryEuroCityMouse™. All rights reserved.

Making Your Voice Heard

Wherever you live and whatever your nationality may be, I’m sure that you know the importance of “having your voice heard”. Currently, for us Americans, we’re being reminded to cast our ballots for not only the Presidential Election, but also for state and local positions, as well as extremely important amendments. This is well, good and proper, and I hope that all of you who are able will go out and cast your vote. I know that I have!

However, it’s important to remember that your voice can and should be heard in many more ways than only in the political arena. We have social media literally at our fingertips, and far too many people are misusing its power. Instead of broadcasting to the entire world why you’re voting “against” someone or something, focus your energies on something much more constructive – what do you stand FOR? What do YOU do to help make those things actually happen?

Now is the perfect time to make your voice heard in ways that can help you become as awesome as probably already think you are. In light of the natural disasters that are affecting people around the world (and right now, as an American, it’s once again on the home front), I encourage you to bring recognition to your favorite charity. It doesn’t matter whether it’s financially, with your time, or even a quick post via your favorite social media outlet; just use your individual power and influence to help make a difference.

Do good; feel good.

xoxo CountryEuroCityMouse

©2012 CountryEuroCityMouse™. All rights reserved.

Dealing with Food Intolerances in the Land of Bread and Beer

When you make the decision to live abroad, there are always going to be some sacrifices that you’ll have to make. Some of them will be foreseeable, such as going through culture shock and working towards assimilation in language, dress, mannerisms, et cetera. Other things will be crazy little bundles of surprises that you never would have dreamed of even on your trippiest day. One of my craziest and most inconvenient surprises has been the manifestation of so-called “intolerances” within me.

Now, I have always known that I can’t tolerate stupidity. I don’t mean ignorance; I don’t mean being undereducated; I don’t mean uninformed. I just mean plain, flat-out, unabashed stupid behavior that is far too often celebrated, accepted, and, to my disgust, inexplicably imitated. I do have Stupidity-Intolerance and I struggle with it every day. Fortunately, I know I’m not the only one who has this form of intolerance, so it helps to be able to talk about it with sympathetic listening ears.

Sadly, shortly after having moved to Germany, in addition to the first, I developed new intolerances to deal with. I was constantly ill, lethargic and feeling poorly most of the time. It was so bad; at one point, I was scheduling my week around doctor’s appointments. To make a long story short, after no fewer than 12 doctors, too many invasive procedures, a lot of helpful suggestions from my dad (who strongly encouraged me to look into natural healing & homeopathy) and a doctor friend of mine (she introduced me to the western adaptation/incorporation of Traditional Chinese Medicine, or TCM), I’ve been dealing with lactose intolerance and more recently, glucose intolerance.

There’s no need to get into all of the details, but I do think that it’s important for you to know that if you are going to spend a significant amount of time in Europe, you need to be aware that the pasteurization process of milk differs from that in the US. I’ve heard from many people in the US military that they developed these intolerances while being stationed abroad, so this isn’t anything new. Nevertheless, it’s important to know about. For example, I wasn’t “lactose intolerant” when I was at home in the US, and even when I go home, I can eat some things that I would never lay a finger on anywhere in Europe. I can eat acceptable amounts of Häagen Dazs or Ben & Jerry’s ice cream and it won’t bother me, but then again, they’re both American products. Go figure. Any other ice cream brand or dairy product (excepting butter & hard cheese) is pretty much a no-go for me. This is an adjustment that I was not necessarily prepared for when I signed up to live in ‘Schland.

The latest intolerance I’ve developed is just a shame. Germany is known for all kinds of food products, and unfortunately, I don’t really eat or drink the top three. I have never tried a drop of beer in my life (and I really don’t intend to), I am not a fan of sausages unless my father-in-law picks one out for me & insists that it will “change my life”. (It usually doesn’t, but at least it tastes good.) Admittedly, I’ve never been a major bread lover anyway, and if anyone knows of the horrors that can be experienced when your body turns against you because of bread, you learn to stay away.

CountryEuroCityMouse™

But it’s Germany! The breads here are amazing. They’re big, small, fluffy, and dense, of varying shapes and sizes and even combination of grains. It’s really very hard to say no, especially when throughout the day, you smell more Brötchen being freshly baked, or you see small children holding onto their Bretzels with a death-grip. I’ll tell you, do not harass anyone in Germany who’s got bread in his or her hands or mouths. That’s a blatant invitation for an altercation, big or small, young or old. Bread is something sacred in this country. There are so many idioms that use “bread”, the discussion of bread baking practices is common political fodder, and many people still call dinner Abendbrot (evening bread). This is fitting, because generally, breakfast and dinner incorporate breads, while lunch may often be the warm meal of the day. No joke – I could devote an entire blog to Germany’s love affair with bread. It runs deep.

Fortunately for me, it’s becoming more common here to offer gluten-free breads (rice or corn-based) or breads that are baked using spelt (Dinkle), which usually doesn’t bother those who are “just” glucose intolerant.

I’m curious to know if any of you have similar experiences in your respective countries. It certainly forces me to be more creative, picky and informed in my eating practices!

xoxo CountryEuroCityMouse

©2012 CountryEuroCityMouse™. All rights reserved.

Ahhh... Quality German Television

For the Handyman Who Ain’t – IKEA

First of all, for those of you who are deeply offended by my use of the word “ain’t” in the title of this week’s blog entry, sorry. Well, sort of. If I were truly sorry, I probably wouldn’t have used it in the first place. It just reminds me of a saying one of my nursery school teachers would say when she heard a kid use the word: “…‘Ain’t’ ain’t a word, and we ain’t gonna say it.” As I child, I always found that saying to be totally stupid. Who was the genius that thought that it would be remotely useful to use a disdained word three times in one sentence as a reminder not to use the word at all? To this day, this saying makes absolutely no sense to me. Granted, I actually do remember the sentence, but I was never one to use “ain’t” in any case – unless, of course, for narrative emphasis. It’s a cheap trick, I know. But it gets results.

This entry actually isn’t about the etymology of the word “ain’t”; it’s about IKEA. (Whoa! You’re probably wondering where that came from. As you should already know by now, randomness comes second nature to me.) If you are over the age of 18 and don’t live at home with your parents anymore, you probably know of which store I am referring to. I don’t know if I can call IKEA a “store”. I personally liken it to being one of Big Brother’s Labs created to look like a massive furniture store. You either love the place or you don’t; but depending on the size of your budget, you probably end up going there either way.

Such has been the case with us. I usually like shopping, I guess. But I’m the kind of person who’s always on some kind of mission. That means I go in, I look for the specific items I need or want, I look at some additional items that might catch my eye for a little while, and then I’m ready to make the purchase and move on my next mini-mission. At IKEA, however, you may as well write off half a day before you even get in the car to drive there. Insanely enough, those Swedes found a way to make furniture shopping a universally torturous glorious experience around the world.

IKEA, here in Germany, pronounced “EE-KAY-AH”, forces you to walk through a maze, going so far as to adding a blue or yellow dotted line to “guide” you along the way. (Are you feeling like a lab rat yet?) Even if you know exactly what you want, say, an inexpensive office chair, you must walk through at least four unrelated departments before you can get to the one you want. Along the way, you must battle through people who stop the flow of traffic to look at a purple Bårgy, whatever that is, and leave their cart – and infant child, mind you – unattended to gaze at this new IKEA item in wonderment. Meanwhile, as you try to skirt this diversion by walking on the other side, you’re side blocked by a group of confused looking people walking in the opposite direction of the obnoxious dotted line, who, in addition to having failed the first test, also look irritable and confrontational as people continue to get in their way.

By the way, if you are in a hurry, you are an idiot for going to IKEA in the first place.

I’m not going to get into the details of the IKEA shopping experience. Scholars have written books on the place, and focus specifically on the manipulative techniques and product placement used to intentionally create psychological experiences before and after the sale. I know many people who scoff at their products and claim that they’re so inferior to other brands, blah, blah, blah, but when we go to visit them at their place and see their Billy bookshelves etc., they sheepishly admit that “for now” they, too will “settle” for IKEA products. Whatever. I know other people who go there with their kids and have a celebrated “IKEA” day, which is absolutely horrifying to me. My husband and I do not celebrate going to this store. We do not ride there thinking, “Yippee! We’re going to be herded around like cattle, wait in an exasperatingly long line and have to figure out how to fit these crazy boxes in a car that is clearly not large enough to accommodate them.” We don’t eat the scary hydrogenated pellets or anything else they have to offer in their canteen, so by the time we’ve finally selected all that we need and pay the fee to have the majority of that mess delivered directly to our home, we’re exhausted, starving and ready to drop kick the happy families leaving the store with 1 Euro hotdogs and 50 cent ice cream cones in hand. This actually was an excursion for them!

Back at home; when it’s time to build up the items, I can’t begin to tell you what change comes over my husband. He gets this determined look on his face, pulls out the instruction manual and all of his tools and gets to work. He’s going to build something, gosh darn it! At this point, he clearly has this major surge of testosterone, which I find to be perplexingly sexy and hilarious at the same time. For the love of humanity, it’s just an IKEA bedroom set, but after you’ve taken those countless hours to build your adult Lego-home, you can’t help by feel a major sense of accomplishment. The best thing about IKEA items is that when you put together something that you’re going to be using on a daily basis, you have a deeper sense of attachment to it because you helped bring that particular item into being. You’re proactively contributing to the betterment of your living space and you’re doing the family budget a favor at the same time.

Our IKEA shopping binges are always an eye-opener for me. As annoying and generally frustrating as I find it to be, it still amazes me how many things you can actually buy in one place for your interior decorating needs. Through your efforts and the genius that is IKEA, you and Big Brother’s Furniture Lab have brought you one step closer to making your house, your apartment, your loft, or whatever – a home.

xoxo CountryEuroCityMouse

©2012 CountryEuroCityMouse™. All rights reserved.