This one may not be filed so much under Crazy, but perhaps stupid.
I was out on Friday for a little Stammtisch. I've been doing this for a few weeks with a German guy from the university. We go out, have some beers, and one week we speak English the next German. This was a German week. He invited some friends along, as we have been trying to make a little bit bigger affair.
There were 5 people total there, and I was the only non-German. All were academics. 2 German Master's candidates, an MBA student, one Computer Scientist and myself. We had an excellent time overall, discussing lord knows what.
At one point the topic somehow got to be my Dissertation. I swear, this was not my idea. So, I'm in the position, yet again, of explaining to a group of non-Germanists what my dissertation is about. I've learned at this point that it does me no good to mention Kerouac, so that's completely off the table. However, I'm going through my spiel about Herr Lehmann, Berlin Wall, Enlightenment, tearing down of border, the topographic imagination, feeling hemmed in, etc. and the Computer Scientist tells me I can't make those claims. That they don't make sense.
I'm open to discussing the issue, so I ask him, "Why?" He says, Because you just told me that Herr Lehmann lived in West Berlin. He wasn't trapped. He could go anywhere he wanted. He was from West Germany. Arguments I've heard before. (Trust me, you don't need to understand my dissertation to understand what I'm about to tell you.) I make some counter-arguments, even citing from the novel (I was unaware I could do this, didn't think I had it memorized.). He counters again, still arguing that my claims have no basis.
I'm getting a little peeved that a Computer Scientist thinks he has the right to tell me what I can and cannot say about a novel I've read numerous times and worked for two years on. So, I ask him two simple questions. "Have you read the novel?" "NO". "OK, then have you seen the movie?" "NO." I think it was a bit rude, but my response to this was, "Then you have no right to say anything, because you have no idea what I am talking about." And I ended the conversation.
I do think this qualifies as at least an arrogant German. No one has ever told me that my idea was off base, especially those that had not read the novel. The polite thing to do if you are completely ignorant is to listen and ask questions. Would anyone you know take a stand against something they know nothing about? It was almost like discussing the issues with Rosanne Rosannadanna.
Until Next Time. I'm working on conceptualizing a previous Crazy German experience. Need to find the right words. It may be sometime this week.
2008-12-14
Crazy German File #4
Thanks, Julie, for the reminder of the DSL Router. Since Crazy German File seems to have a readership, I see no reason why I shouldn't bring in some of the early stories before I had actually figured out my roommate was crazy.
This one happened more or less on Day 1. I moved in October 1st and would have gone to work setting up my wireless network as soon as possible. This Crazy German File is a result of that experience.
As always, it's a little helpful to explain the cultural differences. When one orders DSL in Germany it's possible to also order wireless internet. When you do this the phone company sends you a DSL modem that also functions as a wireless router. As far as I can tell these products are all manufactured and assembled in a country without the internet. How else could you explain the fact that none of them work right. If they had the internet in the factory, someone surely would be testing this product and not forwarding it to a needy public. The wireless signal is weak and unreliable.
Thankfully, I had thought ahead and brought my own Airport Express with me to Germany. I thought I was just making sure I had wireless at home. Turns out I need the savior of the Mac Gods to help me get a strong enough wireless signal. And now, on to the actual story.
Again, my roommate has wireless, but doesn't use the signal because she's afraid the neighbors will hack into her computer. "It's too insecure." No, honey, you're insecure! Her solution is to run a cable from the hallway into her room. There's only one cable. Meaning, only one person on the internet at a time. That won't do.
I made the mistake of working on installing my Airport Express when she was home. It was relatively early in the day. I like to plan extra time for such things. You never know when it's going to take a few hours. The first step is running a cable from the modem to the AE. Easy enough. Plug it in. Easy. And Wait. Not so easy.
It always takes a few tries. I hadn't used the modem in months and had forgotten the password, etc. While I'm working on setting up the AE she is checking her own internet connection. "It's out. What have you done?" "I hope you didn't break the modem." "It was working fine until you started messing with it." And ON AND ON.
All the while I'm thinking, "Chill out. Give me room to breathe and time to do what I know how to do. You're fear of this thing doesn't mean I can't solve the problem." In record time I actually manage to get the AE up and running. It took me about 30 minutes, and it was about all her nerves were going to take. Despite my encouragement that she should just relax and I would let her know when I was finished. For the 30 minutes it was as if Henny Penny was installing the thing herself.
How did I not see the rest of the craziness coming? Was I so blind?
This one happened more or less on Day 1. I moved in October 1st and would have gone to work setting up my wireless network as soon as possible. This Crazy German File is a result of that experience.
As always, it's a little helpful to explain the cultural differences. When one orders DSL in Germany it's possible to also order wireless internet. When you do this the phone company sends you a DSL modem that also functions as a wireless router. As far as I can tell these products are all manufactured and assembled in a country without the internet. How else could you explain the fact that none of them work right. If they had the internet in the factory, someone surely would be testing this product and not forwarding it to a needy public. The wireless signal is weak and unreliable.
Thankfully, I had thought ahead and brought my own Airport Express with me to Germany. I thought I was just making sure I had wireless at home. Turns out I need the savior of the Mac Gods to help me get a strong enough wireless signal. And now, on to the actual story.
Again, my roommate has wireless, but doesn't use the signal because she's afraid the neighbors will hack into her computer. "It's too insecure." No, honey, you're insecure! Her solution is to run a cable from the hallway into her room. There's only one cable. Meaning, only one person on the internet at a time. That won't do.
I made the mistake of working on installing my Airport Express when she was home. It was relatively early in the day. I like to plan extra time for such things. You never know when it's going to take a few hours. The first step is running a cable from the modem to the AE. Easy enough. Plug it in. Easy. And Wait. Not so easy.
It always takes a few tries. I hadn't used the modem in months and had forgotten the password, etc. While I'm working on setting up the AE she is checking her own internet connection. "It's out. What have you done?" "I hope you didn't break the modem." "It was working fine until you started messing with it." And ON AND ON.
All the while I'm thinking, "Chill out. Give me room to breathe and time to do what I know how to do. You're fear of this thing doesn't mean I can't solve the problem." In record time I actually manage to get the AE up and running. It took me about 30 minutes, and it was about all her nerves were going to take. Despite my encouragement that she should just relax and I would let her know when I was finished. For the 30 minutes it was as if Henny Penny was installing the thing herself.
How did I not see the rest of the craziness coming? Was I so blind?
Crazy German File #3
They just keep coming. If it hasn't already become clear, my roommate is really really crazy. I don't mean to insinuate that all German's are crazy. Some are, some aren't just like back home. I found the crazy one.
So, before I can properly begin the story from this morning I must tell you a little something about Germany. It's a little something the Americans here like to call the "Shit Shelf". Imagine going #2 in your toilet, and instead of said deposit being dropped into water (thus damping the odor), the deposit is dropped onto a shelf. I don't know why there's a shelf instead of a nice water resevoir, but it is something I have to deal with.
Sparing all but the essential details, I'm sure you can understand how occasionally the deposit on the shelf might not smell very pleasant. Therefore, I have a box of matches next to the toilet so I can make things smell a little better in there before I leave. Normally I burn the match and then drop it into the toilet. A) It will biodegrade as part of the sanitary works process, B) dropping it in water ensures I will not start the house on fire.
Well, this morning I was asked if I could throw the matches into the garbage, because, "The pipes are very narrow, and we don't want to clog them." SERIOUSLY?!? A match clogging the toilet? I'm allowed to flush my deposits and my toilet paper (clearly of a larger mass than a matchstick), but she worries that a match will clog the toilet!
You've all burned matches before. By the time you burn it to where you need to drop it most of it has already disintegrated. I'm seriously dropping a piece of wood the size of a grain of wild rice into the toilet. I've decided that her request is too much for me. I will not be throwing the matches in the garbage. If she wants them in the garbage she can fish them out and throw them away herself. :-)
Stay tuned for the next entry in the Crazy German File. I'm sure it won't be long.
So, before I can properly begin the story from this morning I must tell you a little something about Germany. It's a little something the Americans here like to call the "Shit Shelf". Imagine going #2 in your toilet, and instead of said deposit being dropped into water (thus damping the odor), the deposit is dropped onto a shelf. I don't know why there's a shelf instead of a nice water resevoir, but it is something I have to deal with.
Sparing all but the essential details, I'm sure you can understand how occasionally the deposit on the shelf might not smell very pleasant. Therefore, I have a box of matches next to the toilet so I can make things smell a little better in there before I leave. Normally I burn the match and then drop it into the toilet. A) It will biodegrade as part of the sanitary works process, B) dropping it in water ensures I will not start the house on fire.
Well, this morning I was asked if I could throw the matches into the garbage, because, "The pipes are very narrow, and we don't want to clog them." SERIOUSLY?!? A match clogging the toilet? I'm allowed to flush my deposits and my toilet paper (clearly of a larger mass than a matchstick), but she worries that a match will clog the toilet!
You've all burned matches before. By the time you burn it to where you need to drop it most of it has already disintegrated. I'm seriously dropping a piece of wood the size of a grain of wild rice into the toilet. I've decided that her request is too much for me. I will not be throwing the matches in the garbage. If she wants them in the garbage she can fish them out and throw them away herself. :-)
Stay tuned for the next entry in the Crazy German File. I'm sure it won't be long.
Crazy German File #2
So, my roommate thinks I suffer from a lack of oxygen. OK. I can deal with that. However, I've recently realized that she is a little OCD about floors.
We have a loose agreement to clean the floors every other week. Frankly, I think cleaning the floors every week is a lot, but I'm not going to argue. I do it one week, she does it the next. I observed early that she tends to clean midweek, so I have adapted her pattern. This week was my week. Monday she asked me, for the second time, if we should write down a floor cleaning plan. It's every other week, do I really need a plan? It's pretty simple. What I've learned though is that asking about a plan is her way of hinting that I should clean the floors--Two days before I really need to.
So, I cleaned the floors. All is fine and good. Then, this morning, as I was reaching into the cupboard to get my coffee out, I knocked a tea canister onto the floor. And tea went everywhere. Well, not exactly everywhere, but there was a fair amount of tea on the floor. I'm faced with a dilemma. My feet are planted and I can just finish getting the coffee I was reaching for, or I can drop everything and sweep up the tea. I chose to finish getting the coffee. Before I even had a chance to put the coffee back she had already swept up the tea.
Clearly someone has some issues with floors. It's curious though, this is the same woman that leaves some sort of rotting vegetation in the sink every time I clean them. Can anyone explain this to me? Or am I just living with the most bizarre person ever? If so, look forward to more stories.
We have a loose agreement to clean the floors every other week. Frankly, I think cleaning the floors every week is a lot, but I'm not going to argue. I do it one week, she does it the next. I observed early that she tends to clean midweek, so I have adapted her pattern. This week was my week. Monday she asked me, for the second time, if we should write down a floor cleaning plan. It's every other week, do I really need a plan? It's pretty simple. What I've learned though is that asking about a plan is her way of hinting that I should clean the floors--Two days before I really need to.
So, I cleaned the floors. All is fine and good. Then, this morning, as I was reaching into the cupboard to get my coffee out, I knocked a tea canister onto the floor. And tea went everywhere. Well, not exactly everywhere, but there was a fair amount of tea on the floor. I'm faced with a dilemma. My feet are planted and I can just finish getting the coffee I was reaching for, or I can drop everything and sweep up the tea. I chose to finish getting the coffee. Before I even had a chance to put the coffee back she had already swept up the tea.
Clearly someone has some issues with floors. It's curious though, this is the same woman that leaves some sort of rotting vegetation in the sink every time I clean them. Can anyone explain this to me? Or am I just living with the most bizarre person ever? If so, look forward to more stories.
Crazy German File #1
The following posts are a series of notes I've been posting on Facebook, but I thought I would share them here for those of you that don't have access.
Yes, I'm living in Berlin. And, yes, German's are absolutely nuts sometimes. I'm sure they feel the same about us. Even if they don't here's one to add to the Crazy German File.
I woke up this morning and complained to my roommate that I hadn't slept well the night before. She asked if I had had the window open. I normally sleep with the window open, but I don't normally live in a climate where it snows, so last night the window was closed. Upon hearing that my window had been closed she mumbled something about "Sauerstoffmangel". Yes, folks, she diagnosed a lack of oxygen in my room. This room is 270 sq. ft. with 12 foot ceilings. EVEN IF I could seal this 100 year old room up and not allow more oxygen in, I could live in here for a week with no problem. Sauerstoffmangel?
I'm convinced there is something in the German mentality that equates any problem they have with deficiency. Hence the frequent diagnosis of: Kreislauf Probleme (Circulatory Problems), and my roommate's Eisenmangel (Iron Deficiency)--she might not have an iron deficiency if she ate meat once in awhile.
Add Sauerstoffmangel to your Crazy German File!!!
I woke up this morning and complained to my roommate that I hadn't slept well the night before. She asked if I had had the window open. I normally sleep with the window open, but I don't normally live in a climate where it snows, so last night the window was closed. Upon hearing that my window had been closed she mumbled something about "Sauerstoffmangel". Yes, folks, she diagnosed a lack of oxygen in my room. This room is 270 sq. ft. with 12 foot ceilings. EVEN IF I could seal this 100 year old room up and not allow more oxygen in, I could live in here for a week with no problem. Sauerstoffmangel?
I'm convinced there is something in the German mentality that equates any problem they have with deficiency. Hence the frequent diagnosis of: Kreislauf Probleme (Circulatory Problems), and my roommate's Eisenmangel (Iron Deficiency)--she might not have an iron deficiency if she ate meat once in awhile.
Add Sauerstoffmangel to your Crazy German File!!!
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