A tricky telephone conversation

Anyone who speaks a foreign language will know that certain situations are particularly tricky: for example, when you’re on the telephone (and can’t see the facial expressions and lip movements of the other person); when you’re on the telephone and the person at the other end is giving you distressing news; when you’re on the telephone, the person at the other end is giving you distressing news and can’t pronounce the German consonant "z" properly (the German consonant "z" sounds like "ts" in English).

Last Friday, I had just sat down at my desk to write a post about my experience with crowdfunding, when the phone suddenly rang. It was a local Berlin number, caller unknown. When I picked up, the male voice at the other end of the line sounded excessively jolly; the man was clearly trying not to alarm me. As soon as I heard the word Schwimmhalle, or swimming pool, I realised this would not be a jolly conversation indeed. He was calling to inform me that my son had just had an accident and had injured his "Fahn". He repeated the word that sounded like "Fahn" and I wondered what on earth he meant. I had never heard of a "Fahn". What could you injure in a swimming pool? How worried should I be? He also suggested I should make an appointment with a doctor of some sort. By now I was getting quite frantic.

The German language is renowned for its compound words. The word for doctor is Arzt and the words denoting most specialist doctors are compound nouns ending in arzt. For instance, a paediatrician is a Kinderarzt (literally children’s doctor), a gynaecologist is a Frauenarzt (women’s doctor), a dermatologist is a Hautarzt (skin doctor), while a dentist is a Zahnarzt (tooth doctor). If only I could understand what doctor he meant, then I might be able to guess which part of the body had been injured. After the man repeated the word Zahnarzt several times, I suddenly realised that my son had hurt his tooth.

I put on my face mask, jumped into a taxi and gave the driver the address of the swimming pool. During the short taxi ride, I kept replaying the sentence in my head “Hopefully the tooth can still be saved”, which I realised is what the man had actually said. That didn’t sound too reassuring. When I got to the pool, I saw a group of schoolchildren waiting outside; they were being instructed in the AHA rules. I made my way inside and followed the yellow arrows on the floor, courtesy of the coronavirus regulations, and eventually found my son talking to the Bademeister or pool supervisor. After signing the accident form, we were joined by the swimming instructor, who first told me about the accident, but then proceeded to complain about the other children’s poor breaststroke technique. Somehow it didn’t seem like an appropriate conversation, given that I’d been called there for an emergency.

For anyone who hasn’t learnt to swim in Germany, you should know that children in this country first have to master breaststroke perfectly before they can learn any other stroke. I read in a German newspaper once that this tradition stems from the army: you need to be able to swim with your head above water to hear commands and to keep an eye out for the enemy! 

When we eventually got to the dentist, my son was seen very quickly, and we were reassured that his Zahn wasn’t loose, while his gum would heal rapidly despite looking, in the words of the dentist, gruesome. I will spare you the gory details, suffice it so say, it involved a piece of gum and some bleeding. By Monday morning, the gum had healed as if by magic, and he was able to go back to school. All’s well that ends well.

To go back to the beginning of this story, in order to be able to speak a foreign language on the phone, it’s not enough to be a good listener, you also have to be good at guesswork.

*Photo by Sharjeel Khalid on Unsplash

Life in lockdown: week seven

We have entered a new phase of quarantine

As in other European countries, the lockdown is gradually being eased across Germany. While measures are being relaxed, experts warn that lifting the lockdown too quickly could lead to dire consequences. One of these experts is Christian Drosten (Germany’s coronavirus guru), who in recent months has become a prominent public figure. He directs the Institute of Virology at the Charité Hospital, here in Berlin, and has been advising the German government since the outbreak of the Covid-19 pandemic. In particular, he has expressed concern about a second wave of the virus. According to Angela Merkel (the German chancellor has recently made the headlines as “the politician who understands numbers”), «We are treading on thin ice». As life slowly returns to some degree of normality, there is a general feeling that things are improving. However, one can’t help being worried that the situation could deteriorate quickly.

Changes to our daily lives

When the lockdown measures first came into effect and our lives were turned upside down, I tried to avoid, or at least limit, reading newspapers online because the news was all about the Coronavirus and it was worrying and depressing. Seven weeks later, the news is still all about the Coronavirus and it remains worrying and depressing, with the occasional glimmer of hope. Nevertheless, I find that I have to keep abreast of developments because of the constant changes affecting our daily lives.

Face masks and playgrounds

For instance, on Tuesday, Berlin became the last Bundesland to make wearing face masks (or any piece of material that covers the nose and mouth) compulsory in shops, effective the following day. This includes children over the age of six. Berliners weren’t given much warning! At least BVG, the transport company, had given us a few days to prepare. My husband was actually turned away from the supermarket on Wednesday because he’d forgotten to take his mask. While face masks were not a common sight on the streets of Berlin until recently, they are now the ultimate fashion statement. If you’ve got to wear one, at least you want to look stylish. There were other changes this week, as several playgrounds in Pankow reopened on Thursday. It felt strange to wander into a playground again and we didn’t stay long, although it was far from crowded. Also, the zoo, the Tierpark (that is the animal park; not to be confused with the Tiergarten, which is the park in the centre of Berlin) and the aquarium have reopened.

May Day and other demonstrations

May Day was a rather quiet affair this year, as the Myfest (a very lively street party held in the alternative district of Kreuzberg on 1 May) was cancelled. There were demonstrations in several parts of Berlin. The biggest was in Kreuzberg, where around 1,000 people took to the streets defying a ban on public gatherings of more than 20 (as mentioned last week, said gatherings are only for funerals or baptisms). They were protesting against capitalism and calling for greater solidarity (#leavenoonebehind). There have also been demonstrations against the lockdown measures in recent weeks in Berlin, especially around Rosa Luxemburg Platz.

 

Enjoying a long weekend

Personally, I kept well away from the demonstrations and went for a bike ride through the Schlosspark in Pankow with the family. Even though the weather wasn’t great and there wasn’t much going on, it felt good to have a long weekend. Except for the days when I take part in digital yoga classes, the days in partial lockdown are almost all identical: homeschooling in the mornings and outdoor exercise for the little one in the afternoons. The weekends are different because we don't do any homework and my husband is at home (if he's not working), so there is more time for playing, writing and resting. 

Social distancing

Though the lockdown is being lifted, social distancing is still the buzzword of the day. We must keep a distance of 1.5m from others at all times. We have got used to the fact that we can’t see our friends, but when we occasionally do see a friendly face on the street it feels rather unnatural to walk towards them and then suddenly stop, because we have to keep a distance. When will we be able to embrace our friends? When will we be allowed to shake hands again? Will we be too scared to attempt any physical contact? When will we stop looking at strangers with suspicion, wondering whether they might be carrying the virus? As summer approaches, will we be able to go on holiday? On Thursday, Angela Merkel dashed our hopes by stating that international travel will not be possible this summer. So, I still can’t answer the question my son asked this week: When will we see Granny and Nonno (Grandad in Italian) again? We might have to wait several more months for that unfortunately.

Life in lockdown: week six

Another exhausting week of lockdown and homeschooling is over. The biggest challenge, in addition to trying to master German grammar (is it really necessary to use the word Selbslaut when the self-evident term Vokal is also in the dictionary? Somebody really ought to have a word with German schoolbook writers!) has been getting our energetic seven-year-old to fall asleep at night. 

Sleep, or rather lack therof, has always been a sore point in our family; the last time I had a decent night’s sleep was eight years ago. With playgrounds and sports facilities still closed, I resorted to YouTube fitness videos for kids, hours of bouncing on a trampoline, running, sprinting and cycling. Unfortunately, long walks no longer do the trick and my yoga classes are unappealing. We’ve also been putting an alarm every morning and waking up earlier and earlier. At least the weather has been consistently good, with five more days of uninterrupted sunshine. The weekend was a different story. We couldn’t believe it when we woke up to a grey sky on Saturday.

Spring is the season of awakening, as Berliners know all too well. The combination of endless sunshine and lockdown has meant that this year the feeling of renewed life and energy is stronger than ever. On Wednesday we cycled through Prenzlauer Berg to the central district of Mitte. There were people everywhere: taking pictures of the cherry blossoms close to Bornholmer Strasse, admiring the “Lord of the Rings/Ice Age”-inspired street art in Mauerpark (Gollum’s precious toilet paper stolen by Scrat the squirrel), queueing up  –  at a distance – for ice cream, sitting on the steps of the Bode Museum –  currently closed –  or soaking up the sunshine on the banks of the Spree river.

The Spree river seen from Museum Island.

The high number of Berliners out and about can be explained by an easing of the lockdown restrictions this week. The biggest change in Berlin is that we no longer need a good reason to leave the house so we are allowed to move freely within the city, as long as we keep a 1.5 m distance from others. As before, we are only allowed to be with members of our own household or with another person from a different household (so that means two people 1.5 m apart). Gatherings of up to 20 people are permitted, but only for funerals and baptisms. Masks are now compulsory on public transport, though even a scarf will do, as long as you keep your mouth and nose covered. Still no parties or barbecues in the park, but quite a few shops have reopened. Once again, I have to acknowledge that it’s difficult to keep up with all the changes, especially as they are not always reported correctly in the media.

Unfortunately, this newfound freedom has meant that thieves also don’t need a good reason to leave their houses, as I discovered one morning when my bike saddle was stolen. So, no more bike rides for me until my new saddle arrives. On a positive side, bike shops have remained open throughout the lockdown to enable Berliners to keep on cycling.

Last week I was feeling rather stressed and under pressure to be more productive, when most of the time all I wanted was to read a book in the sunshine, while sipping a cup of tea. And I really couldn’t be bothered with cleaning or baking. This week, however, I have felt more energetic and I have tried to involve my son in some house chores. We were very proud of our first ever homemade bread. (We actually found a bag of flour in the supermarket! Still no toilet paper though.) We cleaned the floor together and tried to turn it into a fun activity. Being in lockdown is a challenge, but it also has some good sides. Perhaps one day I might even find the time to work on my second novel.

Saint Martin's Day: a German tradition for children

November 11 is marked across many parts of the world as Armistice Day, Remembrance Day or Veterans Day to recall the end of hostilities of the 1st World War. 
In Germany, the Carnival season begins at 11:11 on November 11 and people traditionally eat Berliner Pfannkuchen (similar to doughnuts but without a hole) on this day.
November 11 is also Saint Martin's Day, which is celebrated by all children in Germany as "Laternenfest", the party of the lanterns.
If you happen to be out on the streets just after dusk on Saint Martin's Day, you will most likely encounter one or more processions of children carrying lanterns and singing Saint Martin songs. 
However, if you're at work or live in a neighbourhood with very few children, you will hardly notice. It was only when I moved to Berlin (and to an area full of children) that I first saw a procession of lanterns.
If you're a child growing up in Germany the party of the lanterns is one of the highlights of the year. The lanterns are prepared days or weeks in advance at nursery or school and the children practise signing the typical lantern songs with their teachers. On the actual day, children, parents and teachers gather outside nursery or school and together they walk and sing. At the end of the procession there is usually a party with food and drinks. In some cases there is also a bonfire. On these cold and dark autumnal nights, the lanterns bring much needed light and warmth.

A very German problem

Today I am going to take a break from Brexit to address a really serious problem faced by anyone who lives in Germany: Why are so many Germans unfriendly and what can be done to improve their (and our) lives?

I really hate stereotypes and generalisations about nationalities, but after over 10 years (with a two-year gap in London in between) of living in Germany (Mainz, Weinheim, Saarbrücken, Berlin), I am still confronted with this problem on an almost daily basis.

Example 1) I've landed at Tegel or Schönefeld airport. I've barely got off the plane when I hear some angry person shouting in German about something trivial, such as, other travellers blocking the way or causing some other minor disruption. You've just got back from holiday for goodness' sake, you should be R E L A X E D!

Example 2) I've just got onto a shaky tram with Leo and we manage to find seats opposite an elderly couple. While the tram starts moving, I help Leo to his seat and his little foot inadvertently brushes against the knee of the old man sitting opposite. Most people would simile, but this man pulls a disgusted face and makes some unintelligible remark. The only possible reaction other than yelling at him: "Cheer up, you miserable old man" is to get up and change seats.

Example 3) There are roadworks and the cycle lane is blocked. The road is narrow and dangerous, while the pavement is wide, spacious and almost empty. So I cycle slowly on the pavement keeping out of the way of pedestrians, but a woman waiting at the tram stop shouts at me because I'm not on the cycle lane (which is inaccessible, by the way). Woman, R E L A X!

Example 4) I'm crossing a pedestrian bridge and I am pushing my bike with little Leo sitting behind in the trailer. At the beginning of the bridge, there is a sign telling cyclists to dismount. There are parents with pushchairs walking towards me and the narrow bridge is rather crowded. What does the guy on the racing bike behind me do? He shouts because I'm too slow! Er hello, do you realise we are on a pedestrian bridge and this is not the Tour de France?

Example 5) At the airport again, this time at the gate waiting to board our Brian Air flight. The Brian Air employee is rushing around checking everyone's bags and putting stickers on the larger ones. Suddenly the over-stressed and frustrated employee starts shouting and threatening a young petite lady in the queue, just because she has kindly asked him to talk to her politely. The non-German passengers are aghast and some of us go up to the lady to offer our sympathy.

These are just five examples, but I could go and and on and on...

So what can be done? 

We could start wearing t-shirts with slogans and carrying signs, such as, "Smile, relax and enjoy life", or "Life is too short to be miserable".

We could send all unfriendly Germans away for a year to Jamaica or somewhere similar to learn to relax and be friendly.

We could make relaxation and "How to be polite to people around you" courses compulsory.

Any other suggestions?

Of course, I'm not suggesting that everyone in Germany is like this. There are lots of friendly and smiley people in Germany. Unfortunately though, there are too many unfriendly ones and something clearly has to be done.