So I guess it's time to talk about Fall Break. Yes, I know, what is more interesting than the fact that Hagrid is from Schleswig-Holstein in the German translation of the Harry Potter books? Not much.
Anyway, I'll start with the train ride. The train system in Germany is a mixture between a highly developed public transportation system with a Kindergarten class when the teacher's not in the room. If you know where you're going, meaning what track you have to be at, and at what time, you're good. Just go there and wait for your train. If you don't, you're screwed. In that case, my suggestion is to sit in a tight fetal position and murmur some kind of liturgy or sentimental piece of poetry until the room stops spinning or you beleive in God again.
So the day I headed down to Cologne (October 3) was The Day of German Unity, celebrating the fall of the Berlin wall in 1989 and the following reunification of the country. Everyone has that day off, so naturally, they all decide to travel. I didn't have any reservations for the train ride to Cologne, so I just hopped on and hoped that I could find a seat. From Hamburg to Hannover, no problem, but from Hannover to Cologne, no dice.
I got stuck in the small hall in the train car for about 15 minutes while this massive group of Bavarian (the train continued to Munich) tourists tried to sort out where their seats were. How did I know they were Bavarian? Because it sounded like they were gargling marbles at high-speed. Really, you haven't lived until some German guy you've never met trys to squeeze by you so tightly that you wonder if you should be doing that if you're not married. At least take me out for dinner first. Anyway, after about 15 minutes of that, I turned around the other way and ended up sitting between cars on the floor next to the door.
As a general rule, Germans do not communicate while "unterwegs." They just stare out the window, read a book, or, in the most extreme cases, stare blankly at the seat in front of them, or, if you're sitting in a four facing-seat area, they stare at you. That's not awkward at all. BUT, when you find yourself sitting between cars, they can be downright chatty. I think there exists a sense of solidarity when everyone's hanging on to the wall so they don't get pelled across the train when it puts on the breaks around a curve. While sitting there between cars, an older lady was flung against her standing suitecase as the train went around a curve at 150 kilometers an hour and nearly went backwards over her head. Ice officially broken.
We started talking, in German, and she asked where I was from. There was a small delay. "Are you Swäbisch?" she asks. This question confused the hell out of me. I just kind of stared at her blankly for a few seconds. I had been asked if I was a lot of things, but mostly it ended with a quick "you're American, aren't you?" Now for those who don't know, Schwäbisch is a dialect in southern Germany that has a reputation slightly better than Bayrisch (Bavarian) on the Unterstandability Scale. It's really sing-songy with one of those fantastic rolled R's southern Germany seems to like so much, but most Germans who aren't Schwäbisch have no clue what Schwäbish means.
Anyway, when I didn't answer after a couple seconds, she said "you're American, then?" I said yes. We talked a little more and we decided the rhythm of my southern American accent makes my German sound a little Schwäbisch. I still haven't decided if that's good or not. She then gave me a quick lesson on the German R sound in words like "Kraft." Long and short of it is that people in southern German like to play with their R's (listen to some of Hitler's speeches; he has a pretty righteous Austrian R going on), while the people in northern Germany pronouce it like they're clearing the back of their throat. I think I'll go for option two, sense the first one is impossible for me to do.
At least I passed for a German for about 30 seconds. That's my record so far. Progress!
So that's the train ride down. Coming up, I have a castle, Beethoven's birthplace, and the Bonn Market. Stay tuned!
Anyway, I'll start with the train ride. The train system in Germany is a mixture between a highly developed public transportation system with a Kindergarten class when the teacher's not in the room. If you know where you're going, meaning what track you have to be at, and at what time, you're good. Just go there and wait for your train. If you don't, you're screwed. In that case, my suggestion is to sit in a tight fetal position and murmur some kind of liturgy or sentimental piece of poetry until the room stops spinning or you beleive in God again.
So the day I headed down to Cologne (October 3) was The Day of German Unity, celebrating the fall of the Berlin wall in 1989 and the following reunification of the country. Everyone has that day off, so naturally, they all decide to travel. I didn't have any reservations for the train ride to Cologne, so I just hopped on and hoped that I could find a seat. From Hamburg to Hannover, no problem, but from Hannover to Cologne, no dice.
I got stuck in the small hall in the train car for about 15 minutes while this massive group of Bavarian (the train continued to Munich) tourists tried to sort out where their seats were. How did I know they were Bavarian? Because it sounded like they were gargling marbles at high-speed. Really, you haven't lived until some German guy you've never met trys to squeeze by you so tightly that you wonder if you should be doing that if you're not married. At least take me out for dinner first. Anyway, after about 15 minutes of that, I turned around the other way and ended up sitting between cars on the floor next to the door.
As a general rule, Germans do not communicate while "unterwegs." They just stare out the window, read a book, or, in the most extreme cases, stare blankly at the seat in front of them, or, if you're sitting in a four facing-seat area, they stare at you. That's not awkward at all. BUT, when you find yourself sitting between cars, they can be downright chatty. I think there exists a sense of solidarity when everyone's hanging on to the wall so they don't get pelled across the train when it puts on the breaks around a curve. While sitting there between cars, an older lady was flung against her standing suitecase as the train went around a curve at 150 kilometers an hour and nearly went backwards over her head. Ice officially broken.
We started talking, in German, and she asked where I was from. There was a small delay. "Are you Swäbisch?" she asks. This question confused the hell out of me. I just kind of stared at her blankly for a few seconds. I had been asked if I was a lot of things, but mostly it ended with a quick "you're American, aren't you?" Now for those who don't know, Schwäbisch is a dialect in southern Germany that has a reputation slightly better than Bayrisch (Bavarian) on the Unterstandability Scale. It's really sing-songy with one of those fantastic rolled R's southern Germany seems to like so much, but most Germans who aren't Schwäbisch have no clue what Schwäbish means.
Anyway, when I didn't answer after a couple seconds, she said "you're American, then?" I said yes. We talked a little more and we decided the rhythm of my southern American accent makes my German sound a little Schwäbisch. I still haven't decided if that's good or not. She then gave me a quick lesson on the German R sound in words like "Kraft." Long and short of it is that people in southern German like to play with their R's (listen to some of Hitler's speeches; he has a pretty righteous Austrian R going on), while the people in northern Germany pronouce it like they're clearing the back of their throat. I think I'll go for option two, sense the first one is impossible for me to do.
At least I passed for a German for about 30 seconds. That's my record so far. Progress!
So that's the train ride down. Coming up, I have a castle, Beethoven's birthplace, and the Bonn Market. Stay tuned!
posted by Der verwirrte Ausländer at 11:35 AM
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