As American as

July 4th is approaching. That has me thinking of flags, parades, the freedom to shoot your hand off with fireworks, and barbecues. What is an expat to do when looking for groceries from back home?

You can find some American foods in Germany, particularly the ones at Burger King, McDonald's, Pizza Hut and KFC. Apple pie does not exist (no pie pans either) but there are a lot of products at the grocery store with stars and stripes right on the package. Now that I finally have a smartphone, I get to take photos of all this mundane stuff so you can see it with me! I snapped pictures up and down the aisles at the supermarket last week. Because this is Germany, none of the other customers commented. The guy stocking shelves didn't make eye contact or ask what I was doing. Here, the only people who strike up conversations with strangers are crazy people. I was the one laughing while taking photos of groceries. Clearly if anyone was going to start a conversation it should have been me.

Here are some of the American items for sale:

American salad dressing. We call it thousand island.
In Germany, they still call French dressing French. I wonder what the French call it?

 Peanut butter.  I actually prefer the Dutch peanut butter which you buy at the Asian grocery store (of course).

 It's pretty exciting that I found Pop Tarts. It's pretty incredible that they cost 6 euros and 49 cents.

 Marshmallows. I never knew they were American, but I should have. Marshmallows+chocolate+graham crackers = s'mores, and s'mores = freedom.

 Another gourmet American treat: Campbell's tomato soup for 2.39.

 Chocolate chip cookies. These are not very good. As far as I'm concerned the only decent chocolate chip cookies in town are made in kitchens (like mine) of real American bakers (like me) using real American chocolate chips. Did I mention I bake a mean cookie?

 Cheez Whiz, the hallmark of American innovation.  It's yours for just 4.49.

Hot dogs in a jar. This grosses me out. I don't know why, but I think it's the water inside. Americans usually buy hot dogs in a plastic bag, which is filled with equally murky hot dog water. I used to love hot dogs, as most kids do. Then when I was in college I had to cook hundreds, possibly thousands of them, at a concession stand and my hair smelled like hot dogs for days, possibly weeks. I have not eaten a hot dog since. I don't care how patriotic it is.

 American pizza, with a thick crust.

And, from the freezer aisle, the pizza burger. Pizza, burger - why should you have to choose? I think this is a little like a sloppy joe but I am sure I have never seen one in the USA.

So Germans must believe that Americans live off hot dogs topped with Cheez Whiz, cookies with marshmallows and peanut butter, and pizza and burgers, or maybe both at the same time. No wonder they think we're all fat. Or maybe they just think we're all nuts. You'd have to be a little crazy to shoot your cheese out of a can, or walk around the grocery store taking pictures of food.

The hallo code, part 2

I recently wrote a post about the hallo code. It's my attempt at understanding the nuances of when it's ok to be friendly in German culture.

But there's yet another dimension to the concept of the hallo code. From what I can tell, the word hallo may just have more meanings than any other word in the German language. Unlike the word schön, which means good/pretty/ok/nice/fine, the meanings of hallo are actually quite different from each other.
Let me attempt to explain:

Hallo = hello. You knew that already.

Hallo = are you paying attention? excuse me? With a little extra emphasis on the ooo, you can expect this from the cashier when you are texting in line at the grocery store and have reached the cash register. It's also a way for someone to tell you that something has fallen out of your pocket. It's what you say when you want to order a pizza and your waitress is busy talking on the phone.

Hallo = Hey, watch out! This comes from a cyclist who is getting no reaction after ringing his bell insistently at a pedestrian who has wandered into the bike path. You can also hear it from a driver who is angry at said cyclist for riding in the middle of the road because there are too many pedestrians in the bike path.

Hallo = Hey, everyone, all together! Pronounced 'HA lo-oooow!' This is what the announcer sings at the Hannover 96 soccer games when he wants everyone to sing the fight song.

Hallo = an angry way to say what the f*** are you doing? Pronounced 'ha LOOOOOW!' in a really loud and aggravated tone. This is what a cyclist shouts at another cyclist who almost causes an accident by riding her bike in the wrong direction on the bike path. This is also what the Hannover 96 fan yells at the fan behind him who has spilled beer on his head while singing the fight song. It's what the cashier says when the customer is still texting and has not responded to the first three hallos.

So I will wrap this post up with a pop quiz. Please fill in the blanks with the appropriate answer.
Question:

You are walking down the street and see a friend approaching. You say ___________ .
Excited to see her, you wander into the bike path in front of an oncoming cyclist. He says __________! Startled, you step backwards and a key falls out of your pocket. A passerby draws your points to it and says _____________ . Seized with team spirit, your friend wants to sing the Hannover 96 soccer fight song. She kicks it off with _______________ . Standing in the middle of the bike path, singing, dropping your belongings, oblivious to the world around you, everyone in the area joins together in yelling at you:  ______________!

Answers: Hallo. To all of the above.

No place like...

I've been in Hannover for a while.
In fact, I have not left Germany since early March and that might just be a record. I find myself fantasizing about warm summer nights on the deck at the lake house (smacking mosquitoes in Wisconsin never sounded so nice). I long for old friends and corn on the cob. That's right - we are going back to the U.S. for four weeks this summer.

And the excitement about going home (though, as I have written before, that word is more complicated for me than it seems) has me thinking. Living in another country as an American is a little like seeing the wizard behind the curtain in Oz.

Remember Dorothy and the ruby shoes and her furry friend and metal friend and scratchy friend and her little dog too? Sometimes I feel a little like her, but without the cool shoes.

The U.S. has everything, or everything we think we'll ever need. We believe in it. It's huge and diverse and like a world in itself. We are taught that it's the best place in the great big world and everyone wants to live there.

When you come from the U.S., it's hard to imagine that people can get by on bicycles, with paid vacations, with public health insurance and coalition governments and no garbage disposals. It makes no sense that there are developed countries full of people who don't have closets and sleep peacefully on beds without springs. And that's just in northern Europe.

When I was living in the U.S., I didn't really know what it was like to live somewhere else. I didn't know what I was missing because hadn't quite left yet (caveat - for a signficant time, caveat - as an adult). Now I've had a chance to look behind the curtain. My blissful ignorance is gone. My experience is only in one foreign country in the great big world. It's enough to know there are other ways to go about living. They are better than The American Way, sometimes. Sometimes they are worse.
Now I also know that, no matter where I live, I can never have it all... at least not all at once.

Dorothy probably missed a lot in her quest to find the wizard. She could have hung out in Munchkinland for a while. She could have spent more time getting pampered in the Emerald City. She sure made some great friends, scratchy and furry and rusty ones. What if Dorothy saw that Wizard wasn't what she'd imagined, then shrugged and headed out to enjoy the rest of Oz? What if she looked around for a while before clicking those cool ruby shoes together?

Definitely not in Kansas anymore

New man in my life

There is a new man in my life. His name is Michael.

Before I tell you about Michael, I need to start with Will. He and I had a long relationship. It started when I lived in Minneapolis and I found him by mistake... or I guess you could call it fate.

He was super skinny and covered in tattoos. His tongue was pierced. Sometimes I didn't feel quite hip enough for him. He talked about bands and bars and trends I didn't know much about. But Will sat me down, put his skinny fingers in my hair, and knew just what to do.

The first time Will moved across town, I followed. Then the second time he moved I decided, with a heavy heart, to let him go. After a couple of rebound trims I moved to Germany and started three dark years of blunt cuts, too many layers, one-appointment stands all over Hannover.

I had almost gotten used to this lifestyle. I waited for months until split ends forced me to try out a fresh face and fresh pair of shears. Every time, I tried not to be disappointed.

Then I heard about Michael, and decided to meet him. I was a little nervous. I had even cut out a magazine picture and put it in my pocket, just in case. When Michael told me how much we needed to take off, my heart melted a little. When he started the razor cut, I swooned. I will be seeing him again.

Of course the real man in my life, at a concert last Friday

The hallo code

Quiz question 1:

You are walking down the sidewalk, somewhere in Germany. Another pedestrian is walking toward you. Do you:
a) Smile and say hello (or hallo)
b) Look at your shoes and move on, frowning slightly

Quiz question 2:
You enter the waiting room at the dentist's office. Do you:
a) Quietly find a seat and pick up a magazine
b) Say a general hello (hallo) to all of our fellow patients before sitting down

If you answered a to both of these questions, you are a foreigner. You are probably from the Western Hemisphere. If you answered b or c, you are likely a German, or someone else from northern Europe.

I've mentioned before that Germans don't greet strangers, but it's not actually that simple. A German will talk to a stranger if they share something in common. It's a sort of hallo code. After 3 + years in Germany, I am just beginning to decipher how it works.

In anonymous places, there are no hallos. No one will give you more than a sneer on the street, in the grocery store, or on the bus. Usually they won't make eye contact at all. Germans must believe they have a superpower to become invisible. If you are not looking at the people around you, then they certainly cannot see you. Therefore, whatever you do, you can't be rude. If a new register opens up at the supermarket, it's ok to zoom forward from the back of the store and become the first person in line. Has your train arrived? It's ok to shove your way on before people have gotten off the train. Just don't look at anyone and your superpower is in full effect.

However, saying hello to people with some kind of shared experience is normal, and even expected.
You should say hello if you are joining a group waiting at the dentist's office or the hair salon. When an old lady greets everyone in the swimming pool locker room, you'd better smile and say good morning right back. Being naked is no excuse. A lycra-clad cyclist will always wave or nod to another lycra-clad cyclist headed in the opposite direction. But if you pedal past in khakis and a windbreaker, forget it. You might as well be invisible.

I've had Germans tell me that the only people who talk to strangers are crazy people. What must they think of Americans, then? Minnesota Nice must be some kind of mental disorder.

It's my new mission to figure out exactly when and where it's acceptable to say hello to people, then do it. Except I might pass on friendly chatter in the showers at the pool. Sometimes I wish other people really could be invisible.

Join the team

Dear readers,

I am going to take a break from my usual commentary and tell you a little about what I do when I am not pondering things like fizzy water, mustard udders and automats. Much of my time and energy these days goes into a little nonprofit called Play Global.

It started as the idea of our good friend Tom (Dizzy) Gillespie. A few years later, it has grown into an actual, legitimate organization. The idea is to teach baseball to kids in places where its lessons - respect, teamwork, self-confidence and fun - can make a big difference.

Now take a minute to close your eyes and imagine... wait, don't close your eyes. Keep reading and picture this: 

Kids are running around in a park, they are shouting, laughing. Some are boys and some are girls. They are throwing a ball around. 
Now picture that these children have not met before, they do not live in the same neighborhood, their parents are not friends. They don't even speak the same language at home, and their cultures have been divided for centuries. 
Somehow, as they play together, none of that matters.

This is what Play Global is working on in Israel. Along with the Israel Association of Baseball, we are running a program called Baseball Le'Kulam, or Baseball for All. The simple idea - bring Jewish and Arab kids together in Israel, teach them to play baseball, let them get to know each other. And it works. We had our first clinic in March and I got to see it first hand. Here's my favorite quote from a Jewish girl who participated:

“The Arab kids were not really so different - and they were more normal than most of the kids in my class."

Got 3 minutes? Watch this news clip to learn more (also see Tom looking great on camera):

And all this costs some money. Not a ton of money, but we can't do it for free.
The real reason I am changing topics today is to ask for your help. I'm inviting you to join our team:
https://www.crowdrise.com/baseballinisrael-playglobal/fundraiser/playglobal

I don't ask much of you, other than to bear with me during my ramblings. I don't advertise and I enjoy writing for you without even knowing who most of you are. 
But I am asking to be a part of this project and make a donation. How big or small is up to you. 

Tom and I are running an online campaign to keep Baseball Le'Kulam going for the rest of this year. If we can raise enough, it could carry forward into next year too.

You can donate online. Here is the link one more time:
 https://www.crowdrise.com/baseballinisrael-playglobal/fundraiser/playglobal

If you can donate, or even if you can't,  please share this cause and the link with your friends and contacts. Kids, baseball, respect, peace... causes we can all believe in.

If you want to read a funnier blog post about the same cause, check out the King of Jewish Baseball. 

And thank you, in advance. Now back to our regularly scheduled rambling.

The real Germany - travel guide

We've had a lot of visitors lately. The guest bedroom that usually houses our wet laundry is now housing guests. So after three weekends in a row of showing people around town, I have come up with some instructions on how to have an authentic German experience. Forget lederhosen and oompah bands, and welcome to the real Germany.

1. Ride a bike
Want to get around town like a German? Hop on a bike. Want to get run over by a German? Walk around in the bike lane. It will start with the polite ding of a bell, which then gets more and more insistent as the bike comes closer to you, dumb foreign pedestrian. Then you might get yelled at. For your own safety, please stay on your side of the sidewalk.

At least for Americans, there is a child-like thrill to getting on your bike and riding around with your friends. When you were eight, you rode to the pool or the store. Now, if you are me, you ride... to the pool or the store, or to work or to anywhere else. It's easier than driving a car, faster than taking a bus, and, just like when you were eight, you can drink a beer and get back on the bike without breaking any laws.

Know which part of the sidewalk is for you

2. Visit a Biergarten
It's a beautiful time of year in Germany. The biergartens are open. So come on by - preferrably by bike - and order up a big one. Know that you don't have to specify the kind of beer. It's like in Cheers reruns when Norm shows up and orders beer. That's all you need to do. There might be a menu, but it's not necessary. Sit in the sun while it's out and slurp up those suds. They taste great in the outdoors.

My parents having a true German experience

3. Eat Turkish food
Do you think that Germans only eat potato salad and wiener schnitzel? Wrong. They do eat those things, but not nearly as often as they eat croissants and pizza and especially Turkish food. What I really mean is Döner - the Turkish version of a gyro with rotisserie roasted lamb shaved off and packed into a spongy pita bread with veggies and tzaziki sauce... I'm getting hungry just typing those words. There is a Döner shop on most every corner in cities, and even tucked away in sleepy towns where you'd think no immigrant would go. It's tasty, it's cheap, and it's not nearly as bad for you as a Big Mac and fries. Though you can get fries too, and they are delicious.

4. Have a lazy Sunday
God rested on the seventh day, and so do the Germans. They take Sundays seriously. There are no shops open, very few cars on the road, no reason to get out of your pajamas. Bakeries open from 8-11 so that you can buy Brötchen (rolls) for the obligatory long German breakfast (see #7).  Then it's quiet time, all day long. On Sunday, it's against the law to mow your lawn or blast music. At first it bothered me that I couldn't go to the grocery store or run any errands on a Sunday or start the laundry before 10am (too noisy). Now I am ok with it. Having a day of rest worked out for God, and his laundry is way more important than mine.

5. Keep quiet
Germans are not loud people. Except when they are drunk or watching soccer, or - most often - drunk and watching soccer. It's also good to know that when you, as an American, speak in your normal volume (in Germany that is loud) in English, people can often understand you. Just because you don't know what the Germans are saying doesn't mean they don't catch you commenting on how quiet the bus is or how long that guy's mullet is.

6. Watch football
And by football I mean soccer. If possible, watch it outdoors on a huge TV screen with a few hundred other people. That way you can yell and drink beer together. If possible, wear your team's jersey or scarf and learn the right songs to sing.

Americans often think that soccer is boring and we don't really understand what all the players are supposed to be doing. That is how Europeans feel about baseball. But on game days, it's hard not to get caught up in the excitement, even if you have no clue what's going on.

7. Go to the bakery
Need breakfast? coffee and a newspaper? a quick snack? Go to the bakery. You won't have to look too hard; there's one on almost every corner. You'll need some bakery-specific vocabulary, but pointing and grunting also works. And on the weekends, you will need to throw on some sweat pants and get the rolls before 11. Your rolls are to go with the four different kinds of cheeses, 2-3 deli meats and exactly four spreads on the table. Go ahead, make a butter/gouda/jam/ham/cucumber roll. Then make one slathered in Nutella. And linger over it for an hour or three. It's Sunday, after all.

All you need for an authentic visit to Germany are these 7 tips. And you've got them here, for free.
Take that, Rick Steves. And order yourself a Döner while you're at it.