Ich Heike...ich heiße...What?!?!?

Shortly after we landed in Germany, we learned a new simple phrase. "Ich heisse ..." So "My name is..." Wow, what progress. That Sunday we went to church thinking we were ready for anything. We knew how to say What's up in German and my name is... What more could we need? We get to the door. The greeter knew we were the Americans so she greeted us with "Ich Heike..." And we looked at her waiting for her to finish the sentence with her name. So she kept saying it. Ich Heike..." And we kept waiting for her to finish the sentence. This went on for a short eternity before we all gave up and went into the sanctuary. We were confused, she was frustrated. After church we asked someone what that ladies name was. Apparently her name was Heike, not heisse. She was trying to make it simpler for us by just saying "I Heike"

For the six months that we lived in that went to that church all of our conversations with her went about that way.

First Night in Germany

When I first came here in 2005 I thought there was some really weird stuff. Z and I got picked up from the airport. I was so excited. I had waited 6 years for this day. That's a long time to a 22 year old. I had just finished college and was finally able to do what I dreamed of. This was it. We ate dinner then were dropped off at the house of the people we would be staying with for the next month. The high school girl that was with us told us that we would be staying with two older women. So I had this idea of two sweet gray haired older women. When we arrived at the apartment I was shocked to see that the apartment was decorated super modern. The couch was a bright red half circle. They had modern art on the walls.

This weird Pharaoh bust.

This is what old people decorate their houses like in Germany???

I was really jet lagged and tired. I still hadn't met our hosts and was told they wouldn't be home till really late, so we should just go to bed. So we did. We were exhausted. I slept till late into the night and then was wide awake in a very dark room. I had no idea what time it was either. I didn't even know whose house I was even at. That's when I started to cry. This is what jet lag does to you. It sucks. I was suddenly homesick for a place that I was at only 30 hours before. I still remember the fear and loneliness and realizing other than Z everyone that loves me is on the other side of the globe. No one in Europe loves me. This thought paralyzed me. I still think that's a horrible feeling. It didn't take long before I had friends. People I'm still friends with and visit from time to time. But for me that's some of the worst part of culture shock. The intense loneliness and the inablitity to break out of my shell.

After a while Z woke up. He asked me what was wrong and I told him how scared I was. I don't know what happened between the time that I was alone in my thoughts and when Z woke up, but we ended up laughing. The type of laughter that can only be experienced late at night. We laughed hard. We stayed up for another hour talking and laughing. And if our hostesses, which we still had not met heard this, then I'm sure they must have wondered what they had gotten themselves into and who these strange americans were in the other room.

Oh and the little old ladies with the crazy modern style ended up being in their late twenties early thirties. Apparently to the high schooler that was really old.

No I don't want your socks

Way back in October of 2005 I came to Germany on an internship. My German pretty much consisted of:
"I don't speak German."
"Can you speak English"
and whatever else the German CDs taught me. So one day when Z and I were exploring our town we wondered into what we thought was a small shop. It turned out to be a huge 3 or 4 story department store. German shops can do that to you. You think you're walking into a small store but then find out it goes on and on. So we finally came to the top floor of this massive place. We had done a pretty good job of sneaking by everyone else and not being talked to, but this last floor was much less crowded.

So in the sock department our worst fears came true, a lady approached us and spoke to us in German! We stood there for a second not sure what to do. I looked at Z to do something. He's the much braver of us two. So he used one of the few phrases that we knew. "Ich spreche kein Deutsch." (I don't speak German.) This ensued all kinds of panic. The lady alerted all of her coworkers around that we didn't speak German. Was there anyone that could speak English. At this point we were dying to run out of that building. We had no interest in actually buying socks. We just wanted to see if German socks looked the same as american socks. We were relived to find out that yes their socks are pretty much the same.

So finally they found someone who spoke English. She came over to us and asked. "Can I help you?" To which we replied,"No we're just looking." That was it. We left. After that we were much more cautious about what stores we entered.

Yes "Socks for You" is an actual name of a store.

I'm not complaining, but...

So did you know that in America you don't have to open windows in the winter time to let the moisture out? Oh you did. Well then did you know that in the rest of the world you have to constantly be worried about the humidity in the house and be fearful of mold growing behind your furniture? So we have to wake up in the mornings and open our windows for at least 10 minutes a day or who knows what would happen. I'd probably be deported or something. And if you want to take a shower, who knows how long it would take to get all the moisture out of there if the mirror steamed up.

Rain, snow, heat, doesn't matter! Open the window! This was pure torture to me at first! I spent the first 6 months with my ridiculously bright green coat on. I also wasn't aware that everyone in Germany wore only black or varying shades of gray. But I want to inform you that I've adjusted to all of that. So you can not accuse me of complaining. Well sort of. Like now my favorite colors are black, gray, and white. Instead of just walking around with a coat on, I've learned just wear one tank top, 3 layers of long johns, a hand knitted sweater made by grandma, but please grandma only black thread, then top that off with a scarf and then you hardly miss not having a coat on indoors. Yes it does take about ten minutes to get all the layers on, and yes I can't move my arms as freely as I want to, but it's so nice to be able to shed all those layers when spring gets here look in the mirror and think, man I look good. I look like I lost 10 pounds. This is what I have to look forward to every spring.

But seriously it's just the beginning of October. What am I going to do? Can't wait to be wearing my black down coat that makes me look like a giant burnt marshmallow.

Ok here's a tricky question. Can you find me in this photo? And for a million bonus points where am I?