Friday, September 30, 2005
German efficiency
I’ve decided that Germans are extremely efficient, except when they aren’t.
Shortly after arriving, I opened a Deutsche Bank account. I put a few hundred dollars in, wincing as the euro conversion took a big ol’ bite, and went home to wait for my bank card to arrive in the mail. A few weeks later, I went to the bank on my way to buy a cell phone. Imagine my surprise when they told me my account was empty, they had no record of any deposits, and I’d need to bring in a receipt to prove they had my money.
Flustered and a little panicked, I came back the next day with my receipt. Turns out the cashier had entered the wrong account number and given all my money to Amanda Pepping, who was right behind me in line when we opened accounts.
So -- alles klar, ja? Nein.
To transfer the money back to my account, I had to physically bring Amanda to the bank to approve the transaction. At this point I had moved past flustered and into pissed off. I had made three separate trips to fix the bank’s mistake, not to mention bring poor Amanda down with me, all without a single word of apology. I told our program coordinator about my frustration, and he promptly called the bank and chewed them out. When Amanda and I arrived, the guy behind the counter gave us umbrellas and pens and apologized profusely.
Last week, I decided to take advantage of a great service the German train system offers. For 15 euro a bag, they’ll pick up your luggage at your door and drop it off wherever you’re going in Germany two days later, saving me the trouble of hauling all my stuff on and off trains between Kiel and Berlin.
Great idea – as long as their reservation computers don’t crash three days straight. I made five separate calls trying to figure out when they were going to pick up my stuff. They were a day late, and finally told me I needed to just stay at home all day Saturday because they couldn’t give me a precise time for the pickup.
Then just yesterday, I went to drop off my papers at the Viadrina University in Frankfurt an der Oder. When I got to the appropriate office, the door was locked. The office hours for students to sign up? Nine to 11 a.m., Monday, Tuesday and Thursday -- six hours a week. Get there late, and you're out of luck.
Still trying to figure out what the larger message is. On my end, I think I’m realizing how important customer service is to me. Not necessarily perfect customer service – people make mistakes, especially me – but the value of a simple apology. I also think my German skills make things harder, since it’s hard to be self-righteous when you have trouble forming complex sentences.
But I must admit I haven't seen a late train yet.
Shortly after arriving, I opened a Deutsche Bank account. I put a few hundred dollars in, wincing as the euro conversion took a big ol’ bite, and went home to wait for my bank card to arrive in the mail. A few weeks later, I went to the bank on my way to buy a cell phone. Imagine my surprise when they told me my account was empty, they had no record of any deposits, and I’d need to bring in a receipt to prove they had my money.
Flustered and a little panicked, I came back the next day with my receipt. Turns out the cashier had entered the wrong account number and given all my money to Amanda Pepping, who was right behind me in line when we opened accounts.
So -- alles klar, ja? Nein.
To transfer the money back to my account, I had to physically bring Amanda to the bank to approve the transaction. At this point I had moved past flustered and into pissed off. I had made three separate trips to fix the bank’s mistake, not to mention bring poor Amanda down with me, all without a single word of apology. I told our program coordinator about my frustration, and he promptly called the bank and chewed them out. When Amanda and I arrived, the guy behind the counter gave us umbrellas and pens and apologized profusely.
Last week, I decided to take advantage of a great service the German train system offers. For 15 euro a bag, they’ll pick up your luggage at your door and drop it off wherever you’re going in Germany two days later, saving me the trouble of hauling all my stuff on and off trains between Kiel and Berlin.
Great idea – as long as their reservation computers don’t crash three days straight. I made five separate calls trying to figure out when they were going to pick up my stuff. They were a day late, and finally told me I needed to just stay at home all day Saturday because they couldn’t give me a precise time for the pickup.
Then just yesterday, I went to drop off my papers at the Viadrina University in Frankfurt an der Oder. When I got to the appropriate office, the door was locked. The office hours for students to sign up? Nine to 11 a.m., Monday, Tuesday and Thursday -- six hours a week. Get there late, and you're out of luck.
Still trying to figure out what the larger message is. On my end, I think I’m realizing how important customer service is to me. Not necessarily perfect customer service – people make mistakes, especially me – but the value of a simple apology. I also think my German skills make things harder, since it’s hard to be self-righteous when you have trouble forming complex sentences.
But I must admit I haven't seen a late train yet.
Thursday, September 22, 2005
Diminutives
The other day, a solitary sentence appeared on the blackboard in my classroom. It read,
"Wuerstchen und Bananen fuer Maeusebaer von Kuschelmaus." Roughly translated: "Sausages and bananas for Mousybear from Kissymouse."
This sentence disturbed Felix, one of our friends in the dorm, because the sausages and bananas are for Mousybear, and Mousybear is a pet name for guys.
This sparked a discussion on diminutives, or pet names. The basic is "Schatzi," or little treasure. Then pretty much any animal can be turned into a pet name by adding "-chen." Again, uninspired standards are "Mauschen" and "Baerchen." Weird: "Wurmchen." Best, belonging to someone I met in Kiel: "Seehundchen," or little seal. I like it because I like "Seehunde," which literally means sea dog.
"Wuerstchen und Bananen fuer Maeusebaer von Kuschelmaus." Roughly translated: "Sausages and bananas for Mousybear from Kissymouse."
This sentence disturbed Felix, one of our friends in the dorm, because the sausages and bananas are for Mousybear, and Mousybear is a pet name for guys.
This sparked a discussion on diminutives, or pet names. The basic is "Schatzi," or little treasure. Then pretty much any animal can be turned into a pet name by adding "-chen." Again, uninspired standards are "Mauschen" and "Baerchen." Weird: "Wurmchen." Best, belonging to someone I met in Kiel: "Seehundchen," or little seal. I like it because I like "Seehunde," which literally means sea dog.
Kein Euphemismus
Keeping the Sprachkurs ladies amused this week? The German word for birth-control pills, or "Antibabypille."
Wednesday, September 14, 2005
The Fulbright 10
Aside from the non-stop German learning, I've been hanging out with the other Fulbright scholars who are in the language classes with me. Fulbright pays for German classes if people aren't totally up to par when the grant starts; people who are already pretty advanced go to Regensburg, down in the mountains near Munich; the real beginners get sent to Kiel. On the strength of my vocab and listening comprehension I got into Intermediate I (Mittelstufe I) and have been suffering through grammar that's way over my head ever since.
We've got a great little group here, and since most of us live in the same dorm we've gotten to be really close. There are ten of us from all different backgrounds and disciplines, and it's been a really great time. There are three amazing musicians: Amanda, a trumpet player (Buy her CD!) and two opera singers, Jacqueline and Jennifer (both sopranos, although Jennifer's a lyric soprano, which I'm told means she gets to play little sisters and best friends a lot). Alaina, Meghan and Leslie are the lovely "hard science" ladies (neuroscience, biology and applied physics, respectively) and Patrick is an economist from UC Berkeley. Rounding out the group is my next-door neighbor Abi, a playwright, and Michael, a hilarious political science guy from Texas via St. Loius who just graduated recently. I am the old man of the bunch at 28, which is a little scary.
We've bonded over food. We make big group dinners every night, mobbing group kitchens to make food for 10 people at once. The language student group before us were apparently Mormons from Utah, and so we had to work hard in the beginning to clarify America's reputation. A lot of drinking was involved.
German word of the day: "die Gluhbirne," lightbulb. Literally, "glow pear."
We've got a great little group here, and since most of us live in the same dorm we've gotten to be really close. There are ten of us from all different backgrounds and disciplines, and it's been a really great time. There are three amazing musicians: Amanda, a trumpet player (Buy her CD!) and two opera singers, Jacqueline and Jennifer (both sopranos, although Jennifer's a lyric soprano, which I'm told means she gets to play little sisters and best friends a lot). Alaina, Meghan and Leslie are the lovely "hard science" ladies (neuroscience, biology and applied physics, respectively) and Patrick is an economist from UC Berkeley. Rounding out the group is my next-door neighbor Abi, a playwright, and Michael, a hilarious political science guy from Texas via St. Loius who just graduated recently. I am the old man of the bunch at 28, which is a little scary.
We've bonded over food. We make big group dinners every night, mobbing group kitchens to make food for 10 people at once. The language student group before us were apparently Mormons from Utah, and so we had to work hard in the beginning to clarify America's reputation. A lot of drinking was involved.
German word of the day: "die Gluhbirne," lightbulb. Literally, "glow pear."
Monday, September 12, 2005
The CDU hits Kiel
Just got back from a CDU rally on the Kiel waterfront. Angela Merkel is the Christian Democratic Union's heir apparent; the CDU is Germany's center-right party, and it's been out of power for a while. In the meantime, Gerhard Schroeder's center-left SPD party has generally failed to bring the country out of the economic dumps. Unemployment is in the 12 percent range, the number of retirees is climbing while the overall working population shrinks, and German jobs are moving east.
Apparently, most Germans think Schroeder's blown his chance. Local elections in the industrial heartland of Germany earlier this year went overwhelmingly in the CDU's favor, and Schroeder called an early election, arguing that he couldn't govern if the people didn't have faith in his leadership. Elections are on Sunday.
Compared to the average US rally, Merkel's event was really relaxed. The backdrop was sort of inspired -- Kiel's main shipyard was directly behind her across the fjord, and a symbol of Kiel's industrial base. As I went in, a beefy guard in a suit waved me over, checked my camera bag and patted me down, while letting people with no bags walk by. There were maybe a thousand people there. A few had German flags. The crowd was waving "ANGIE" signs, which I guess is the preferred nickname for Merkel. The crowd was peppered with the German version of Young Republicans, except somehow less preppy.
She gave a half-hour stump speech, which included the usual: let's educate the kids, keep criminals off the streets, more jobs, etc. She did point out that German workers get paid much more than, say, Poles, and that the reason used to be German workmanship was much better. I think she then argued that Germans needed to start earning that reputation again. I understood about 60 percent of what she was saying, but in politics it's what's between the lines that counts, and my German's not there yet. Most interesting -- several of the folks I talked to said they were undecided. I thought it was cool that people outside the party faithful showed up to listen.
One entertaining incident came in the middle of the speech. A quartet of Greenpeace activists smuggled an anti-nuclear power banner into the middle of the crowd. A Secret Service type with an earpiece told them to take it down, and made a grab for it; there was a little scuffle and the kids left after a few minutes. In the middle of it all, one of the crowd tried to put their hand over my camera. I didn't catch who it was and kept taking photos; when I stopped, no one nearby in the crowd could quite look me in the eye. I guess if people try to make you stop you're pointing the camera in the right direction, huh?
As people were leaving, the band played "Ladies' Night" and "We Are Family." It took me a minute or two to get the "Ladies' Night" joke. It just seemed weird that the theme song for the German national elections was American disco.
Apparently, most Germans think Schroeder's blown his chance. Local elections in the industrial heartland of Germany earlier this year went overwhelmingly in the CDU's favor, and Schroeder called an early election, arguing that he couldn't govern if the people didn't have faith in his leadership. Elections are on Sunday.
Compared to the average US rally, Merkel's event was really relaxed. The backdrop was sort of inspired -- Kiel's main shipyard was directly behind her across the fjord, and a symbol of Kiel's industrial base. As I went in, a beefy guard in a suit waved me over, checked my camera bag and patted me down, while letting people with no bags walk by. There were maybe a thousand people there. A few had German flags. The crowd was waving "ANGIE" signs, which I guess is the preferred nickname for Merkel. The crowd was peppered with the German version of Young Republicans, except somehow less preppy.
She gave a half-hour stump speech, which included the usual: let's educate the kids, keep criminals off the streets, more jobs, etc. She did point out that German workers get paid much more than, say, Poles, and that the reason used to be German workmanship was much better. I think she then argued that Germans needed to start earning that reputation again. I understood about 60 percent of what she was saying, but in politics it's what's between the lines that counts, and my German's not there yet. Most interesting -- several of the folks I talked to said they were undecided. I thought it was cool that people outside the party faithful showed up to listen.
One entertaining incident came in the middle of the speech. A quartet of Greenpeace activists smuggled an anti-nuclear power banner into the middle of the crowd. A Secret Service type with an earpiece told them to take it down, and made a grab for it; there was a little scuffle and the kids left after a few minutes. In the middle of it all, one of the crowd tried to put their hand over my camera. I didn't catch who it was and kept taking photos; when I stopped, no one nearby in the crowd could quite look me in the eye. I guess if people try to make you stop you're pointing the camera in the right direction, huh?
As people were leaving, the band played "Ladies' Night" and "We Are Family." It took me a minute or two to get the "Ladies' Night" joke. It just seemed weird that the theme song for the German national elections was American disco.
