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.