More Cultural Learnings

I already posted this first incident on Facebook, but not all interested parties are plugged in to that feed.

The final turn before arriving at the Siedlung (see prior post for definition and description) is a double left turn with very narrow lanes that I always treat as a single lane. Thus, switching from near lane to far lane mid-turn, I almost hit another driver the other day. My bad. But I noticed just in time and did not hit the other driver. No harm, no foul. Or so I thought.

That is when I learned something new about German culture. Near car accidents are treated as actual car accidents. One must get out and determine who would have been at fault had there been any fault. If you do not engage in this car accident theatre, the other party follows you home and yells at you. So that was different.

This morning, after Henry's soccer team won 10-2 (and Henry played quite well), Katie and I offered abundant praise. Meanwhile, the German parents said things like, "The team performed adequately."

Henry's penalty kick

And these things happened:

Madeline performed adequately as Lewis of Lewis and Clark

More adequate performance

We hosted the soccer team from our former school, Cairo American College

Orienteering with the 5th grade

The adequate orienteers of the 5th grade

An Egyptian cat finds adequate warmth in Germany

Siedlung Halloween (We Got Tricked)

We live on the siedlung (which auto-correct really wants to change to sidelong). Siedlung means settlement, so that's kind of generic and evokes a sense of exploration (or West Bank conflict) wholly inappropriate for the rows of bland former military housing (which I love, mind you).

The settlement is our little American enclave in the middle of Frankfurt and we try to keep the American spirit alive. For example, trick-or-treating, which proceeded thus:

It was announced that siedlung trick-or-treated would commence at 6 pm. There is no such announcement for real trick-or-treating (by real I mean what happens in Idaho Falls, Idaho), it just commences, and somehow that works. Alas, when in Germany, you might as well make a rule for every imaginable thing.

While getting costumed, however, we observe already costumed merry-makers making merry throughout the siedlung, which caused some alarm and confusion. We had been advised that since there is no native trick-or-treating, German kids from the neighboring settlements drop by and candy supplies are quickly exhausted. So we accelerated our costuming and headed out (15 minutes early!).

We observed revelers pooling at various common areas and tried to join. We asked about trick-or-treating. No one seemed to know anything. How hard could this be? You have a costume. You have a bag. You ring a doorbell. Done. Except that everyone sits out front with candy on tables so you don't have to ring the bell. Fine. Small wrinkle.

So I advised my gaggle to commence. Ho! There, a man in costume sitting behind a table top of filled candy bowls. Approach. "Trick-or-Treat!"

"We start at 6 pm," the costumed man growled without humor. I looked at my watch. 5:56 pm. Really?

Can you imagine someone in Idaho Falls, Idaho coming to the door on Halloween (with a bowl full of candy) saying "We haven't started yet" and refusing to give you the candy they hold in their hand for the purpose of distributing to trick-or-treaters of which you are one? No, you cannot imagine this. It is unimaginable. It is, dare I say, un-American. I was indignant. Trick's on me.

We proceeded to trick-or-treat all tables but refused to return to this table. A meaningless gesture I am sure he did not notice, but it felt right.

Back to the Future Day

All you nerds out in nerdville, Marty McFly departed 1985 on October 26. He then reinvented his family's past. If you are like me, you have at least once had a fanciful daydream of going back and doing a few things over. Righting some wrongs. Avoiding mistakes. Preventing accidents.

But here's the thing, if I were to suddenly wake up and it was 20 or 30 years ago, I think my main objective would be to get right back where I am. Strange though it may sound, this might just be the life I was meant to live.

Six Year Old Soccer, Germany Style

As written by Katie (then posted by Tim):

Only coaches allowed on the field. No yelling or cheering allowed. You may only clap when there is a good save or a goal. I don't think Nana would survive it. I had to chew on my collar to keep quiet.

Katie's view from the parents' box.

Other quirks: no referees at all. Kids self regulate the out balls, corner kicks goal kicks. Coaches only occasionally instruct. all games end with Penalty kicks (even though we won 13-0). At the end of the game I was handed all the uniforms... Apparently it's my turn to wash them. Yuck.

The Uplifting and Fun Playlist

I think most of my blog patrons are Mormons, so for many, the recent church General Conference is already old news. Living abroad, I don't get to watch it live and have been catching up on the talks a few at a time. The kids and I especially enjoyed this one (while Katie was partying in Monaco, by the way): Sister McConkie.

Now, sort of related, one thing I enjoy doing while away on business trips is curating new playlists for various family occasions. So with the inspiring conferences messages in mind, I put together the following fun playlist for spiritual recharge:

1. Come Thou Fount of Every Blessing, Fiddlesticks
2. High on the Mountain Top, The Mormon Tabernacle Choir
3. Israel, Israel God is Calling, The Lower Lights
4. Fantasy on a Scottish Tune, The Millennium Choir
5. How Great Thou Art, Holly Tucker
6. We Are All Enlisted, The Lower Lights
7. Lead Kindly Light, Audrey Assad
8. Be Still My Soul, Mindy Gledhill

Oktoberfest

Yes, I rang the bell

No, Caleb and I together did not ring the bell

More Heaven

We stayed at the Club Cordial Achenkirch and loved it, with one minor quirk. It had one bathroom, but in two separate rooms. Toilet only in one room, and then you walk through the living room to wash your hands in the sink.

If you were to mix the Teton area of Idaho and Wyoming with the White Mountain area of New Hampshire, add medieval castles, and then make it into its own country, that would be Austria.

Schloss Tratzberg, where they happen to serve killer schnitzel with cranberries.

I Found Heaven, It's Called Austria

Instruments of Torture

Katie

She had a car for a week, and it was a glorious week. We received temporary tags for the week in order to get all the inspections and registration done. Temporary tags are now expired and we wait 3 days to 4 weeks to get permanent tags. So we have a car, but can't drive.

Some have suggested (myself included during a period of naive silliness) that a family could perhaps thrive in Europe without a car. They have all these trains and stuff. Trains they have but riding them regularly is more expensive than having a car (if you want to leave the city). So our eyes were opened to the potential glories of Europe with a car. And now we will wait to realize these celestial visions.

Oh yeah, turned 40.

Madeline

During "choose-your-instrument" night, Maddie was told she was a natural on the flute and had "good lips" for the clarinet. So, of course, she chose the trumpet. Sigh. Why do I suspect Saturday morning will become her preferred practice time?

Caleb

Mr. C chose the violin, in which he has expressed interest since age 4. So he's consistent. He also recently announced that when he grows up, he's going to be a lawyer like his mom. Good kid. We rode our bikes downtown yesterday to pick up his violin and I fell a bit more in love with Frankfurt. First of all, the easy bike-ability is unparalleled. Then there is just one lovely neighborhood after another.

Henry

They take soccer seriously in Germany, at an early age. Soccer practice is divided by skill level, at age 6. I also pause to note that youth soccer is heavily subsidized by the state. After a few weeks of practice, Henry was selected for the more skilled 6-year-old team, but since practice is 100 percent in German, he doesn't really understand. All he knows is that one day he was kicking butt and the next day he was struggling (because he was with the better players). He also suspects, and this may be true, that the German kids prefer only to pass the ball to other Germans.

Tiger

He's killing me. He will not let me sleep past 5 am. If I lock him out of the room, he rampages the house until I get up, so I just have let him wake me up. According to Tiger, my only acceptable activities are: feeding Tiger, petting Tiger, sitting down so Tiger can take up residence on my lap. Killing me.

Katie's 40th, Happy Birthday to Me

I planned a lovely weekend getaway to Munich for Katie's 40th (which technically is still two days away). But so many things conspired against us. The new car arrived just in time, but then we discovered that the one guy in the Frankfurt region who is certified to inspect new American spec cars is on vacation until October.

German engineering? Yes. German efficiency? Meh.

I was prepared to rent a car, take the kids along with us, whatever it would take to not completely fail at delivering the promised birthday trip. But Katie talked me out of it. For the record, it was Katie's insistence!

So, instead of a Munich getaway, yesterday we went to a sports restaurant in downtown Frankfurt (with the kids) and watched a Bundesliga (soccer league) match featuring Eintracht Frankfurt and then went to Guardians of the Galaxy (which was gold, solid gold, you might say). Definitely Katie's best birthday ever, as far as I'm concerned.

Before you feel too bad for her, she did just get a brand new Toyota Highlander (it has 4 miles on it!) and has a trip to Monaco (no kids, or even husband) coming up in two weeks.

Mad Max

Some times I feel like Mel Gibson. No, not the contemporary drunk version. The Mad Max Road Warrior version.

Except instead of cruising a hot rod down the remote country roads of Australia, I'm sitting in economy class on an eight hour flight next to a guy with really smelly feet. But that's basically the same, right?

And instead of having epic battles with evil doers like Nightrider (or Naught Ridah, as they say down under) and Toecutter, I'm looking for waste, fraud, and abuse in government agencies. But that's like, totally the same as far as energy and excitement.

And instead of relaxing, after killing some baddies, on an exotic beach, I'm at the Residence Inn with free breakfast and wifi.

OK, so I'm nothing like Mad Max, except that I sympathize with him when he laments that the road is making him crazy and he just wants to get back to his family or he just might lose it.