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

Aha! The new normal

The summer in Berlin ended two weeks ago, when thermometers recorded a spectacular drop of 20°C. One day we were heading to lakes and outdoor pools for relief from the heat and the next we were rummaging through our wardrobes for cardigans and raincoats. Although the summer is technically not over yet, there is an autumnal feel in the air. The mornings have turned decidedly chilly, while the fallen leaves on the ground are getting more noticeable. As the coronavirus summer ends, the coronavirus autumn begins.

Aha!

Some of us were lucky enough to enjoy a proper summer break, perhaps even going abroad, while others opted for a staycation. For most of us, though, the holiday time is over and it’s back to old routines, well not quite. The new normal in Germany is represented by the AHA rules. In this case Aha is not an exclamation to express satisfaction or surprise - Aha! So that’s how you defeat coronavirus! - and it also doesn’t stand for alpha-hydroxy acid. Moreover, it doesn't refer to the Norwegian pop band that was popular in the eighties (Take on meee!). In the year 2020, AHA is an abbreviation of Abstand (distance), Hygiene (hygiene) and Alltagsmasken (daily masks). 

Going back to school

While children around the world are returning to school or are preparing to go back to school in the coming weeks, here in Berlin children have already completed their fourth week of school. The first week was dedicated to learning the AHA rules obviously. Apart from the compulsory masks, the social distancing (not in classrooms) and hygiene rules, school here is pretty much back to normal. We even managed to have an Elternabend or parents’ evening (a general meeting about the class) in the assembly hall, where we were all sitting 2m apart and wearing masks.

It's virus time

As life gradually returns to normal, albeit under the AHA rules, and recreational and cultural activities pick up, what can we expect? Viruses of course! However much we wash our hands and keep away from crowded places, viruses will reach us, especially if we spend time with children. As GPs and paediatricians are keen to point out, there are plenty of viruses out there, in addition to the infamous one. 

After three weeks of school, the first virus made its way into our home, in the form of a sore throat, runny nose and fever.  I spent last weekend wondering whether it was coronavirus and where to get tested. When I finally managed to get through to the paediatrician to ask for advice on the following Monday, it became clear that a Covid-19 test would not be required. Luckily, it wasn’t a serious infection and it cleared up after a few days. In the area where I live, it seems that the only way to get a free test without a long wait is to return from a Risikogebiet, i.e. a region at risk. When I started sneezing and feeling under the weather, my husband suggested booking a cheap return flight to Spain so that I could get tested. The alternative would be a private test in Berlin that costs €158,65. Sunshine and tapas here I come! 

On a serious note, check the guidelines for your country or region. If you live in Berlin and your child is ill, this PDF by the Berlin Senate Department for Education, Youth and Family explains what to do.

Flying in the time of coronavirus

Cancelled flights, concerns about the safety of air travel, worries about the rise in the number of Covid-19 infections at destination and the eventuality of quarantine on return mean that flying in the time of coronavirus can be a nightmare. It is not surprising therefore that many people have decided not to go abroad this summer. Others, meanwhile, have opted to travel by car to avoid being in close contact with potentially infectious travellers.

 

Is it safe to fly?

If you don’t fancy the prospect of driving 2,500 Km or more to visit your family, flying is probably the fastest and safest option, albeit not the most environmentally friendly. According to experts, if you consider various forms of travel, such as bus and train, the risk of Covid transmission inside an aircraft cabin might actually be the lowest. This is because planes use a hepa (high-efficiency particulate air) filter that ensures air inside the cabin is either fresh or recirculated. However, the risk increases if the plane is full, especially if you are sitting next to someone who is infected.

Will my flight be cancelled?

Bearing all this in mind, my family and I set off for Berlin’s Tegel airport by taxi on a bright sunny morning at the end of June. We all wore face masks, including the taxi driver, and we had the car window open to let in a steady breeze. I carried a selection of spare masks in my hand luggage, as well as travel-size hand sanitiser and disinfectant – the essential items when travelling in the coronavirus era.  We had already had one set of flights cancelled by Lufthansa in June (only 12 days after booking – we are still waiting for a refund, as are thousands of others) and, right up until boarding, I had doubts about whether our Swiss flights actually existed and whether we would make our connecting flight in Zurich.

 

Will social distancing be possible?

When we arrived at the airport, Tegel was almost deserted and most of the shops were closed. The queue at the bag drop was much shorter than usual, and passengers generally observed the mask-wearing and physical distancing rules. Once we got to our gate, it became more difficult to keep a distance from others, as more people arrived, so we moved upstairs, where we found fewer people and more comfortable seats. When the announcement to board the plane was made, the airport staff made the usual distinction between business and economy passengers, but other than that we were all called to board at the same time. It was difficult to maintain a physical distance, especially when queuing in the jet-bridge, but at least everyone was wearing a mask.

 

What happens on board?

Once on board, we were greeted by the mask-wearing crew and we were given a disinfectant wipe. The idea is for passengers to disinfect all surfaces close to their seat. We were also given a questionnaire to fill out with our contact and travel details, including our seat number on the plane. According to the airline Swiss, “where possible, neighbouring seats will be kept vacant”, but both our planes were full and, as far as we could tell, there were very few free seats. Swiss has a “modified and partly reduced onboard service”, which “aims at reducing the number of physical interactions between crew and guests”. As both our flights were over 45 minutes, there was a reduced beverage service and on our second flight we were given a snack. There were no Duty-Free sales though. Zurich airport was busier than Tegel, as there were more flights departing. Most shops were closed, but we were able to buy sandwiches.

 

Are the regulations the same in other EU and Schengen countries?

I’ve already written about the confusion caused by the contradictory information regarding Covid. To add to the confusion, when you travel abroad, you discover that each country has different regulations about face masks and physical distance.  For instance, at Zurich airport wearing a face mask is not compulsory, but passengers are encouraged to wear one if a 1.5 m distance cannot be observed. As we were queuing to board our flight to Palermo, we heard an announcement about larger pieces of hand luggage to be placed in the hold.

 

What are the regulations when travelling to Italy?

The Italian National Civil Aviation Authority (ENAC) has prohibited the use of overhead lockers. Small handbags are still allowed, as long as they can be placed under the seat in front of you. The measure is intended to facilitate boarding and disembarking and avoid the formation of crowds. Once on board, we were advised to wear our protective masks. They are compulsory on all Edelweiss flights, “whenever social distancing is not possible”. After take-off, there was another announcement, presumably as we were now flying over Italian airspace: in Italy it is mandatory to wear a protective mask on airplanes at all times. We were also given a self-certification form to fill out declaring we were not suffering from Covid or subject to quarantine. When we landed in Palermo, we disembarked as usual and walked into the terminal, where our body temperature was scanned. After waiting an hour for our luggage, we discovered that 55 suitcases were missing, including ours. Apparently, there had been a problem at Zurich airport. Two days later, after having our body temperature scanned three times at different points in Palermo airport and after a security check, we were finally able to collect our luggage.

 

Do I need to quarantine?

If you travel to Italy from other EU and Schengen countries there is no requirement for quarantine, but it’s probably wise to keep an extra distance from others, just in case.