We're Not in Kansas, That's For Sure!

May and June have been and continue to be busy months – all to the good with the exception of the German health care reform debate that is consuming Gary’s time during the work week. While it is a true delight to be here, be able to travel to so many wonderful places and when not traveling, live in what looks like a picture postcard village, we are still regularly reminded that despite our growing language ability, our increasing confidence in every-day life and our overall comfort level in living here, we are still “strangers in a strange land.” There are some things that still surprise (and, yes, annoy) us.

Sorry. We’re Closed.
A few weeks ago, we drove to Paris for the French Open. The story that wasn’t told in the recent post about that trip happened on the way home. On the way home, we stopped for a bathroom stop just after crossing into Germany. While we had about a quarter tank of gas and might have filled up the car, we decided to wait till the next gas station because where we stopped was not a station we had a gas card for. Along the autobahn, there are regular pull-offs for gas and we had stopped at one just near the American military base, Ramstein, on the way to France. There are “always” gas stations on both sides of the autobahn whenever we see gas stations.

Except when there's not. Our car monitors the gas supply by both a fuel gage and estimated kilometers. When we set off from our rest stop, we had over 125 kilometers yet to drive on our gas supply. And, we were not in the wilderness, this was the major autobahn to Frankfurt and Mainz – a big metropolitan area, which was no more than 150 kilometers away. But, we found that the gas station we stopped at near Ramstein was the ONE stop on the autobahn not mirrored on the other side of the road. No gas station.

At 15 kilometers remaining, we programmed our Navi to take us to the closest gas station –on or off the autobahn. Great news, there was one just 5 km away – we took the exit and headed there. Ahhh… but, it was a Sunday evening and it was in a small town. It was closed. That’s okay, we figured, there was another gas station listed just 7 km away. We set off again. This time, Navi miscalculated the estimated distance. When we coasted into that darkened gas station, Navi reported to us that we had “null” (0) kilometers left to travel on our gas supply. And, the gas station was closed.

By now, the kids had woken up and the time was 10:45pm. Thank goodness for a husband who speaks fluent, Bavarian-accented German. Faced with the prospect of sleeping in the car, we called the Poliezi to see about getting some help. The help they offered – knowing that we had already driven a few kilometers past “Empty,” was to give us the address of a “24-hour” gas station nearby. Fortunately they also gave us the phone number. Gary called to explain our situation. He was told that no, it is not a 24-hour station but instead, it closes in 7 minutes, at 11:00pm. He told them where we were and that we would head there immediately, hoping we had enough gas fumes to make it – could they please watch for us?

Off we went, the station was estimated to be about 5 km away. Of course, it was winding, hilly, narrow streets through a small town in the countryside and we were white-knuckled the whole time wondering if the car would sputter to a stop. We rolled into the station at 11:01pm – I know precisely because Navi gets the time from a cell tower. The lights were already turned off but, I could see a man standing at the pumps. Great! They had waited for us!

No. Believe it or not, it was a man standing at the pump, gas nozzle in hand, who had been thwarted in his effort to fill his car. He told Gary that as he stood there about to pump the gas, the owner had turned off the lights and the pumps. The store was locked. Completely dumbfounded that an owner of a gas station, in a small town, who knew that a family was headed their direction on an empty tank of gas, no more than 5 -10 minutes away would not wait at least a few minutes to see if they arrived – especially with a paying customer (who, for all she knew, could have been us trying to fill a bone-dry tank) trying to pump gas that would have filled those minutes at a profit, we were momentarily at a loss.

But, seeing a light on in the back of the store, we hit redial on Gary's phone. A woman answered. She acknowledged that her husband had told her about the call but, he had just left. Gary convinced her to come to the door. She arrived with the explanation that no, she would not turn on the pumps again for us because she had turned off the credit card machine. (There are no pay-at-the-pump gas stations in Germany).

Between us we had 40 Euros in our wallets. We offered to pay cash and she begrudgingly turned on her pumps. Just how bad a day must someone have had to so nonchalantly close their store at the stroke of 11:00pm when they know a family a few minutes away will be stranded overnight without gas? Or, just how ingrained in a society is it that individuals’ problems are “someone else’s” to help with ?

Now, I know that in some places in America, this may have happened as well. But, I like to think that most small-town gas station owners would have stayed open a few minutes longer for such an emergency. And, in many a small town, I suspect we would have even gotten an offer to bring gas to us – an opportunity to be helpful as well as earn a great tip for an enterprising gas station owner.

As I’ve mentioned before – there is almost always some kernel of truth that originates the broad categorizations of a people. It is interesting to note that the most frequent stereotype I hear from Germans about Americans is that they can immediately pick out an American because “they are so friendly.” One can’t disagree about that here in a country where it is expected that the NEW neighbors bring cookies or cake to the rest of the neighbors to introduce themselves!

We’re from the Government and We’re Here to Help!
If you live in Germany, you are relieved of even basic home maintenance routines. The government has it all well in hand. A few months ago, a workman in a City of Konigstein uniform knocked at the door. He was here, unannounced, to read and replace our water meter. He communicated to me that it was the scheduled time for this house to have a new water meter installed. Hmmm… the existing one was working just fine but, they replace them every three years and it was time - and, "No worries, the bill will go the landlord." I let him in and signed the papers.

Last week, I received a notice in the mailbox that the “chimney cleaner” would be here at 8:30 the next morning. Gary’s mom was here visiting – that’s how I knew it said the “chimney cleaner!” Well, I assumed it was someone who would be passing through the neighborhood to offer his services --- it happens periodically with knife sharpeners and apple sellers, why not chimney sweepers? We don’t have a fireplace so I didn’t think any more about it.

The next morning, Molly called me while I was at the grocery store and told me someone was here cleaning the furnace in the cellar. He spoke English very well and was very polite. He was wondering though about all the soot in the cellar around the boiler (see January post re: furnace mishap, not fully repaired regarding soot exhaust as landlord unwilling to make minor repairs).

The workman explained to me that he worked for a company contracted by the Hessen state government. It was the scheduled day for our annual furnace inspection and exhaust pipe cleaning. He created more soot mess by opening the pipes that lead out of the house and breaking the hatch door on the pipe in the process. More phone calls to bosses and the landlord, trips to the hardware store and return visits to repair the door. Now, we have more soot but very clean furnace exhaust pipes!

Oh, and I was assured “not to worry, the landlord will get the bill.” In a place where the government even schedules your furnace maintenance, can enter your home at any time to count and tax the number of televisions and radios you have (including radios in your car) and replaces your water meter on schedule, its no wonder that over the years, people become accustomed to assuming and counting on the fact that “someone else” will do things, solve problems, take care of you, etc.

Sorry, I’d rather be responsible to schedule my own furnace maintenance and help out my neighbor or fellow man when they are in need. Just my libertarian tendencies showing, I guess.


Living in Harmony – Consideration is the Key
This is the headline of an article in a newcomers publication I receive. It really should be titled “living in harmony – following the rules is the key.” I am simply reprinting the article here without comment as none is needed!

Quiet Time: is from 8pm to 7am during the week, and all day on Sundays and holidays. This rule covers general house and garden equipment (lawn-mowers, basketball playing) that make up to a certain amount of noise. The state of Hessen used to have more rigorous quiet time between 1pm and 3 pm but that was repealed several years ago for middle-range noise.

Washing your Car: Generally not allowed because the chemicals in the soap seep into the groundwater. Still, you can get away with it if you use dish soap as long as none of your neighbors complain.

Barbeques: You are allowed to grill twice a month for homes with gardens (yards) and once a month for apartment dwellers. What is important is that the smoke and smell do not bother your neighbors. Let your neighbors know in advance so that they can close their windows. Some rental contracts don’t allow grilling at all.

Parties: You are not allowed to make noise outside after 10pm. Noise may never be “excessive.” You may have bigger parties up to four times a year.


World Cup
I don’t know how much attention the Soccer World Cup is getting in the US. It is the reason for living over here! The once-every-four-years event is worthy of suspending classes in school to watch Germany play on TV. Soccer is not that exciting a TV spectator game. And, once one team has scored two goals, the outcome is virtually assured, any suspense eliminated. I guess it’s a matter of opinion though. The country has gone World Cup mad!

The way you can tell the Germans are over the top is this: two weeks ago, German flags began appearing everywhere. Hanging out of windows, flying on car windows, worn as clothing and capes, and printed on everything from napkins and paper plates to the infamous vuvuzelas (loud, buzzing horns), given away with every six pack of beer. I hadn’t really given much thought before to the fact that you almost never see a German flag flying – anywhere. Displays of nationalism or patriotism are not typical here at all. The unwritten rule to avoid overt displays of patriotism is perhaps their interpretation of a lesson of history they were made to learn well of their past nationalistic fervor gone so seriously awry in World War II. Even public buildings do not display the country's flag.

Those conventions have been suspended – the unwritten rules ignored! Don't be alarmed, it is just for one month. . .