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.