Top 10 Things We’ve Learned the Hard Way in Berlin

Top 10 Things We’ve Learned the Hard Way in Berlin

Today is Friday, and if you're like me, you especially appreciate a laugh or two at the end of the week. So, in the spirit of week's end, I've compiled my own “top ten” list of things we've learned the hard way in Berlin. Important disclaimer: I've written this purely in fun, and mostly to make fun of myself, so I intend no offense to my dear German friends or to the lovely German culture! 

1: Do NOT cross the street until the pedestrian crossing light turns green. You may be tempted; there might not be a car in sight for miles; there might be no one watching, but you SHALL NOT PASS until that light turns green. If you choose to ignore this warning, you will be the subject of intense staring, whispered maledictions, and/or just plain eye-rolling. 

The Berlin pedestrian crossing symbol, the Ampelmännchen.  

2: In the buff: When the sun comes out and the temperatures rise above 70 degrees, be PREPARED to see naked people in the park. Men, women, children, regardless of age shed clothing like it's going out of style and bask shamelessly in the sun and/or play in the public fountains. So, just turn your head and keep moving; it's all part of the Freikörperkultur (Free Body Culture) idea/Naturism, which remains quite popular here.

Park across from our apartment: Note: Naked people not shown.

3: Prepare for battle while attempting to board the train/bus: Do NOT assume that people will move out of your way, or be polite and let people with babies and strollers pass or get on the bus first. If you do not elbow your way through and/or attempt to mow through the crowd with your giant double stroller, you'll be the only one left standing on the platform as the train rolls out of sight. It's survival of the fittest here: old folks and children and people with huge strollers beware: you'll have to fight for that bus/train spot!

Our double stroller...my weapon of choice for the battle of the bus.

4: Do NOT discipline your children in public. You will be viewed by some as an authoritarian nightmare trying to push your fascist ideals onto young, innocent minds. Let your children climb furniture in waiting rooms, throw toys, squeal, or have a full-blown meltdown, but by no means should you jerk your kids up to their feet, raise your voice, or threaten them with a torturous punishment. You'll be told that "It's normal here" for children to act like that, so the best way is to quietly attempt to reason with them or just let them run wild. When I inquired about the form of discipline used at my son's former preschool, the director responded, "What do you mean by discipline?"

Discipline? We don't need discipline!

5: Be prepared to pay for EVERYTHING! You'll need to fork out cash to use the bathrooms in many nicer stores/restaurants in the form of putting a sort of tip in the plate of the bathroom attendant. Most of the time, this is a practical way to ensure the upkeep of the bathrooms. Other times, there are signs quoting the "price" of the trip to the toilet. You'll also need to pay to use the diaper changing facilities at some public restrooms. A stinky diaper will set you back about 1 Euro. 

 Water is another thing that comes with a hefty price tag. As most restaurants deem tap water "unclean" (although it's officially quite healthy and fine to drink), you'll need to buy a fancy glass liter of water (with gas or without gas...I usually choose the later...and sometimes withhold a chuckle) ranging in price from 5-10 Euros, typically. Be prepared to ration out your water supply throughout the meal as the liter of water goes quite quickly with a family of four. Be prepared to leave your meal either thirsty or broke from buying extra water.

6: Get ready to don your socks: It's customary to remove your shoes before entering people's homes, at preschools, and at many cafes that cater to young children (kinder cafes). While I know this is quite sanitary and sensible, for the newly arrived expat, it can be an embarrassing venture. On more than one occasion, I wore my Capri length jeans with my almost knee high boots, which seemed practical as the shorter length allows for an easier zipping of the boot. I also wore my mismatched, threadbare socks, because who sees your socks, anyway? Well, everyone, apparently! Upon removing my boots, I'm left with Capri jeans and ugly mismatched socks. I made quite the fashion statement at a couple of parties and cafes. 

7: Don't be TOO friendly: When we first arrived in August, I was lonely and homesick, and stuck at home with my two boys every. single. day. We made a daily outing of going to the park. I was desperate to make friends, so I'd find another mom on the playground and begin with a quick smile and glance her way. Usually, the response was a quick turn of her head in the other direction. Not to be deterred, I'd usually go over and attempt to start up a conversation with some comment on the weather, or asking her child's age, etc. Typically, one of two things would happen: either she’d smile and pretend she didn't speak English (which perhaps she didn't, but I suspected otherwise!), or she would simply walk in the other direction and look at me with a wary, suspicious look. I'm convinced I became known as the crazy American stalker lady. I even shamelessly attempted to use my children for icebreakers. I'd send them over to play with another child, hoping that it would result in a conversation, but typically to no avail. Now, to the German people's credit, I understand that initially and as a whole, Germans are a bit difficult to "break the ice" with, but once you establish a friendship, they are quite loyal friends. Though I cannot confirm this statement from personal experience, I'll give them the benefit of the doubt. Score at the end of August: stalking attempts=countless, German friends=0. 

The Creepy American Stalker

8: Love (or annoy the dickens out of) thy NEIGHBOR: Perhaps these faux pas are less a cultural issue and more of a result of our family not being accustomed to apartment living. Apparently there's an unwritten (or it might be written in German??) rule that after about 7p.m. there will be NO hammering on the walls for any reason. When we first arrived, we worked tirelessly to get mounds of stuff put away and our humble abode decorated. Of course, for practical reasons, I waited until my husband, Raed, came home from work to hang the pictures, which was usually around 7, or 19:00, I should say. On more than one occasion while in the midst of picture hanging we'd hear a "bang, bang, bang" from the ceiling above, which apparently was supposed to tell us to "knock it off". We'd always comply, feeling a little ashamed of ourselves. We found ourselves racing against the clock some nights feverishly grabbing hammers and nails to beat the 7:00 cut off and to avoid the scolding "bang" from above. On one shameful occasion, however, we were attempting to hang closet shelving. Both my husband and I lost track of time, and while attempting to drill into thick concrete walls, we didn't hear the fateful "bang" from the neighbors. Suddenly the buzzer phone rang (the phone connected to the doorbell buzzer outside the building). A little excited as to who an unexpected guest might be, we answered the phone only to hear an elderly German gentleman shout "VE VAAANT TO SLEEEEEEP"!!!! After profusely apologizing, we hung up, and hung our heads. Needless to say, it took several weeks to finally get everything hung and drilled.

9: Go ahead, let your children dine with knives, glassware and open flames at school. Maybe Germans just give their children more credit than I give mine. At German kita, or preschool, it’s a common practice at lunch time to allow the group of children, even toddlers, to use real glassware, knives, forks, etc., and to have a lighted candle on the table as they dine. Despite my boys’ typical reaction to such tempting items (i.e. trying to stab each other or set one another on fire), they actually responded quite well and the lunch, I must admit, had a certain charming ambiance to it!

Fire, Fire!

10: Do expect to be stared at. We’re not extraordinarily interesting people to look at most of the time, and I’ve noticed that no one seems immune from this anomaly. Young, old, pretty, ugly, everyone gets a stare. Germans like to stare, and they take the stare to a new level. I’ve been stared at before, but usually when I return the gaze, the staring party looks away. I’ve always considered myself a reasonable contender when it comes to a staring contest, but I think I’ve met my match! Stare away, folks! I wear contacts so I can go a really long time without blinking!

So there you have it. And this is only the tip of the iceburg! Do you have any cultural adaptation experiences to share from other parts of the world?