Sledding without a hill in sight

It snowed.
I must be one of the few people in Hannover to own three pairs of snow boots, not to mention ski gloves, skis and ice skates. I came from Minnesota. These things are necessary (and I like boots).
 I don't get to use them very often here, because snow is pretty rare and doesn't last long. In fact, the cross country skis are still wrapped in the packaging that the movers put on them. I am very glad I didn't bring a sled.

Kids in Hannover want to go sledding. They really do. But that's hard to do when you live in the flattest place outside of North Dakota. There's not even a man-made hill or a ditch to slide down. Sledding means that Mutti or Papi drags little Lara or little Lars around slowly on a toboggan. It's like the sled dog race of Germany. Lara and Lars are in the back with a whip yelling "mush".

With no hills in town, this poor mom is getting a workout.

Much like with other toys, American kids have flashy-looking plasticky sleds, colorful saucers or inflatable snow tubes. German kids have hand-crafted wooden toboggans that look like they'd last forever.

The preschoolers have all but given up on pulling each other.

I can't complain about the winter here. In Saint Paul it's -16 Farenheit right now. In Celsius it's -26, which sounds even worse. I do feel bad for the German kids who don't know what they are missing, though. I feel worse for their parents with the sore arms.

And as the snow turns into sloppy slushy puddles along the curb, I look at my skis all wrapped up and shrug. Then I pull out another pair of boots.

The new landlord

We have a new landlord. The word 'landlord' is funny because it involves the word 'lord', which is a word only used in religion, sarcasm, and Lord of the Rings, or Lord of the Dance. But as English speakers we use it to describe the person who lets you live in a place he owns if you pay him rent money every month. It's like a medieval feudal system; we are the serfs.

A few months ago, all the tenants in our building got a letter stating that the place was up for sale. It said that prospective buyers might come by to visit, and that if anyone wanted to purchase their apartment, that was possible too. How much does an apartment in Hannover run for? I looked at some listings, and it seems like a place like ours would cost around 170,000 euros.

It's unlikely that anyone here would buy their apartment, though. It's not because our neighbors can't afford it, but because Germans usually rent. To us Americans, it seems odd that a middle-class person or family could live a lifetime renting from someone else. The right to own property is one of those things that our founding fathers were fighting for. They'd had enough of serfdom back in the old world and wanted us future generations to have a 2 car garage, a picket fence and central air conditioning. It's a different story here. Only 43% of Germans own their homes, and in cities that number is even lower. Just 10% of the housing in Berlin is owner-occupied. Switzerland is the only country in the EU with a lower rate of home ownership than Germany.

So this landlord thing is kind of important.
We liked our landlady at first if only for the fact that she was willing to rent the apartment to us before we even arrived. She trusted that the international school would hire people who were somewhat responsible and wouldn't wreck the place. Little did she know we'd be the kind of tenants who would drop things on our neighbors below and run our washing machine at unacceptable hours. We only met her one time.

The new landlord is named Pedro Barrios-Schueler. With a name like that in Germany, you can bet that this guy is Spanish or at least his parents were. Maybe he's married a German and hyphenated his name to sound more German, or because she wanted him to. Mr Barrios-Schueler sent a letter just this week, asking us to send rent to him now instead of to Ursula.

As an American, I think this would be a great scam. Just send all the tenants in a building a letter saying that you are the new landlord, and collect all their rent money. A German, even a Spanish-German wouldn't think of doing that because it's against the rules. So we'll go ahead and pay up. We are just serfs anyway, and there is no air conditioning in Hannover.

Not defeated, just confused

It's been a long time since I have been defeated by Germany. I haven't shed tears or been completely embarrassed by the opponent for a while. There was one time I came close - Just before Christmas I fled from a fancy boutique (if I'd known it was that fancy I never would have gone in), because the sales person decided to try having a conversation with me. My vocabulary concerning designer purses and scarves was failing me, so I just shut up and ducked out of there before I unknowingly bought an 80 euro keychain.

But even though my pride has stayd mostly intact, I can't say I understand everything that the Germans do. And knowing your enemy is half the battle.

Here are two incidents of German behavior in public that have baffled me lately:
On Sunday, Brian and I were riding our bikes (yes, it's been warm enough for a long bike ride - take that Midwest) down a narrow road. Another bike was coming toward us and just ahead a woman was getting out of a parked car. There was not room for all of us and the open car door. So we braked, the other bike swerved, and the woman just sauntered out as if no one was around. "This situations warrants somebody saying something," Brian commented. Exactly - how about an excuse me? a go right ahead? a watch out? a wave? anything? No - total silence and zero eye contact. It reminded me of someone with a shopping cart stops in the middle of the produce aisle, and doesn't notice you trying to get by because he is inspecting the cucumbers for evidence of bruises (yes, this person is a he sometimes too). Instead of saying 'excuse me, can I get past', people either find a small opening and charge on through, or more often stand there silently and wait.

You'd think that the longer I live here the less I'd notice these things. On the contrary - now that I know enough German to say 'pardon me, do you mind looking up from your cucumber to let me by', this behavior annoys me even more.

And a totally opposite situation - on Friday I was waiting in a little cafe for my friend Serena. In the U.S. we call them 'restaurants' or 'coffee shops'. Cafes, as far as I can tell, are something in between. This is how I can tell I live in Europe, in case I forget, which I sometimes do. That and all the men walking around in scarves. Anyway, an old man walks in, looks at me, and says "you're sitting in my spot". I am totally confused. This man is a stranger and he's not only making eye contact but speaking to me in a public place. I understood exactly what he said. And I am not sure (you never can be with German humor), but I think he made a joke. He then told me that he always sits in that very chair because it backs up to the radiator and is very warm. He refused when I offered to move, saw my book on the table, and asked what I was reading. I cannot explain this behavior. Maybe he was actually Dutch, or Polish, or half Canadian. Or maybe it's just because he is over seventy and no longer cares about social customs. No matter the reason, it made me happy. I like friendly people, and I like it when I can understand the friendly things they say. When Serena showed up, we moved and gave him his table back. He ordered a hot milk with honey and read the newspaper.

It's too early in the war to say whether I can win. When will Germany beat me again? Probably a week from Tuesday. I am not defeated now, but the enemy keeps coming up with surprises.

Or maybe I am my own enemy.  Maybe my biggest obstacle to being a superstar expatriate is my own self-doubt.

Misguided bananas, stereotypes and drugs

Some bananas showed up in Aldi supermarkets in Berlin earlier this week, along with 140 kg of cocaine. The drugs were tucked into seven banana crates that ended up at five different stores. The drugs, and the bananas, had been shipped from Colombia to Hamburg, then sent on to Berlin. So while Aldi ended up with a lot of drugs, some Berlin drug dealer is trying to figure out what to do with 140 kg of bananas. 

The haul was worth 12 million euros. It was Berlin's biggest drug bust in 15 years.

Police called it a 'logistical error'. Every article I read on this event featured the same quote:
"I don't know where the mistake was in the perpetrators' delivery chain," said the head of the city's anti-narcotics squad, Olaf Schremm.

This is a very German response. It doesn't make sense to the stereotypical German that a package could not get to where it is supposed to go, on time, with up-to-the-minute tracking information. If DHL can do it with my latest order of mop heads and used novels, why can't an international drug cartel do the same? I mean no offense to you if you are a member of a drug cartel, of course. These mix-ups happen from time to time. I do mean that if there's any stereotypically German job, it's that of logistics.

I confess I wasn't entirely sure what logistics is all about. But now that I have read up on the internet, I am an expert. Logistics is managing the supply and flow of stuff.  From raw materials through transportation, manufacturing, packaging, storage, etc, the logistics people make sure things are done efficiently, according to the rules and on-time. So if we are considering cultural stereotypes (Which of course we are. The logistics experts would agree that it saves a lot of time.), then logistics suits Germans perfectly. The drugs, however, came from Colombia. No matter how organized a drug lord you are, if you are a Latino drug lord you will never be as precise as a German. Your watch, after all, runs on Latino time.

This makes me wonder what a stereotypical American job would be. It has to be big, maybe a little flashy or overly friendly, and big. I think it would be a long-haul truck driver - traveling long distances in a huge vehicle carrying a lot of stuff, eating at truck stops and wearing either a baseball cap or a cowboy hat, talking to strangers on your CB radio with a cool handle like 'red dog'. That sounds pretty American.  But does that mean that the German logistics expert is your boss because he/she has already figured out where your cargo needs to go and when it needs to get there? No, you don't have a boss. You work for yourself because you are an entrepreneur and an innovator. You are a cowboy and a pioneer, and you might be obese. You're an American.

( Sorry - that's enough of my tangent on stereotypes. Let's get back to bananas.)

Even if the Berlin police can't understand how it happened, the banana/cocaine delivery chain got a little tangled up. As a result, a drug lord is out a bunch of money. At the same time, a drug dealer is eating a whole lot of bananas.

What I was doing in Dallas

As promised, here's an explanation. I was in Dallas for work. 'Work?' you ask, 'to learn about passing out worksheets and helping 3rd graders with times tables?' No. 'Work?' you ask, 'like you have an actual job?'

Well yes, actually I do. I was at a baseball coaches' conference. No, I am not working as a baseball coach. Having very little hand-eye coordination, I abandoned ball sports long ago.
I was at the conference to represent the nonprofit organization that I am running along with our friend Tom (Dizzy): Play Global!. In addition to learning words in German like "to pour", it's what's been keeping my brain spinning for the past year.

If you don't remember the basics of the organization, check out this post from March 8th.

Since the organization got started last year, we have done a lot of waiting. Mostly we have been waiting for the IRS to approve the application for Play Global! to be a tax-exempt nonprofit. Without that we can't accept donations or apply for grants or do much else.

But in November and December things really started to pick up. We secured a donation from former professional baseball player Derrek Lee to purchase 5 batting cages and have them shipped to Uganda. We started working with the Pearl of Africa Series, a Canadian-led group that is also supporting youth baseball in Uganda. With their help and some donor support, we will send a couple of coaches to Uganda in the summer to help set up the cages as well as train some coaches and players.

We also started planning a baseball clinic/tournament in Crimea, Ukraine for March of this year. We'll bring in players and coaches from around that region (Ukraine, Moldova, Romania, Belarus and maybe some other places), to improve their skills and play against each other. There has never been an international baseball tournament in that region of Eastern Europe before, and what's even better is that we'll have kids from different countries, ethnic backgrounds and even those speaking different languages playing on the same teams. This will be our first real project and a chance to get feedback from the participants on what it feels like to learn and play with people they wouldn't have otherwise met.

The IRS called last month to say they have started working on our application. This was a relief - I'd had nightmares that they'd reject the whole thing because it was printed on A4 paper instead of 8.5x11" paper. We also started working with a sponsor organization that can take donations for us  while the tax-exempt status is pending.

Which brings me back to Dallas. Along with two board members, I hosted a networking event for conference-goers with the goal of introducing Play Global! and building our list of supporters. It worked, I think. At least people showed up. They all knew who I was, since there were no other women in the room. I think I saw all of 2 other women at the conference, aside from the hotel staff. There were no lines in the ladies' room.

As an added bonus, in Dallas we met up with Brian's cousin Maggie and her boyfriend Luc, who generously drove us around town. We also had dinner with Brian's youngest brother Dan. It was good to see some familiar faces in a strange place. 

You may continue to read occasional Play Global! updates on this blog since it's part of what I do every day, but if you'd like to follow what we are doing, support us, spread the word or donate, please check out our website (I created it, mostly): www.play-global.org
You can also follow us on Facebook and Linkedin. Just click on the buttons in the top corner of the website.

I like this job of mine. I am learning a lot. Sometimes I feel like I don't know what I am doing. But I figure that between me, Tom and our board, we know more than a lot of people who start an organization or a business. If we can pull it off, I'll be pretty excited. And it requires no more hand-eye coordination than being fast at typing, so I have a shot.

Home for the holidays

We hadn't originally planned to go back to the US for Christmas. So why did we? Mostly because of this guy:

Brian and I became godparents to young Billy Casper at the beginning of a very Casper Christmas outside of Baltimore. Other than the baptism, there was a lot of eating and sitting in the living room. There was playing with the kids and shopping and gifts and a lot more eating. It was delicious.

Brian as the lEf and Becca starring as Cindy Lou Who

Then we flew on to Chicago, where we hung out with my family in different living rooms and ate different foods and played with different kids. It snowed too. My mom, sister and I took my Grandma to tea downtown and we spent a cozy weekend with my siblings and their families at the Powers Lake house. Oh, and Brian got to watch a couple dozen college football games. Then we went to Dallas.
Why Dallas? That'll be in another post.

Tea downtown at the Drake

This was a blast  - we got all 6 sleds tied together. I think Austin and Jaden couldn't see anything from under their hats.

Dad with his likeness. We should have put a cigar in its mouth.

Favorite game of the weekend - put Phoebe in the bench. She loved it.

So while we went a lot of places and saw a lot of people (not all mentioned here but that doesn't mean you're not important), our trip had a recurring theme of just hanging out... and eating.

Going back felt different this time. The obvious reasons are that it was winter and we didn't get to the Twin Cities.  We'd also been there just four months earlier, so easy and familiar places didn't give me the relief I felt after a year of being foreign. Is that because I feel less foreign in Germany now? Maybe it was also because our whole trip was spent in vast suburban landscapes. No offense to those of you who live in the suburbs, but I had the sensation that even after traveling in three states, we hadn't gotten anywhere becuase it all looked the same.
I didn't go for the places, though, I went for the people. And the Mexican food. And the movies.
We luckily escaped the Polar Vortex and are comfy with a damp 50 degrees in Hannover today. 
Happy New Year!