Men's Day 2015 Part 1

In Germany, Father's Day is celebrated by all men. It's actually called "Männertag" (Men's Day) and falls on Ascension Day; the day that, according to Roman Catholiciscm, Jesus ascended to Heaven after His resurrection. Fun fact for those of you who are wondering: this tradition dates back to the eighteenth century when prizes were awarded to fathers after Ascension Day parades in rural areas.

Men who are fathers generally spend the day with their families. Men who are not fathers use it as an excuse to go day drinking and get wasted, then continue drinking into the night whereupon they are shitfaced around 5 am.  It's a national holiday and always falls on a Thursday, so naturally everyone takes Friday off as well and the streets can be fairly chaotic.

This year, Mario would be spending the day with his friend Olli. I am good friends with his girlfriend, Jenny, so she and I decided to have our own girls' day. We ate breakfast together around 11 am, and then the boys left to celebrate "being a man." Meaning having their first drink around 11:30, and many more thereafter.

She suggested that we go to a couple art galleries. A quick check online and we were on our way to Alexanderplatz. In the Ubahnhof we saw our first sign of Männertag: a group of 5 or 6 guys dressed like Superman. They had rigged up a little kid's wagon as a portable bar, decorated with Superman's red and blue colors and logo, and had speakers playing the Superman movie theme. It was pretty elaborate and also funny as hell. They kept doing the Superman pose as if they were flying, one fist in the air.

The gallery turned out to be closed, so we poked around at a Flohmarkt (a flea market) and headed to Museum Island, a clustering of diverse museums here in Berlin. You can buy tickets for each individual museum or, if you are a tourist and want to get your money's worth, you can buy a master ticket and spend the whole freaking day wandering around looking at old stuff.

On the way there we stopped to drink a beer. I had my wine and sipped it a bit while sitting on a park bench and pretending to be asozial, one of those day-drinking rednecks who hang out in front of Spätis (corner stores, very popular here in Berlin). We were right on a major tourist pathway between sights so I got a lot of funny looks. Mission accomplished.

We headed to the Pergamon Museum, which is cool because it has several huge displays including the Ishtar Gate from Babylon, which is a towering beautiful blue tribute to one of the greatest cities of the ancient world; the Market Gate of Miletus, which is a dominating two-story high, 30m wide monument; and the Mshatta Facade, an intricate palacial facade of an ancient desert castle in Jordan.

http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/f/f6/Pergamonmuseum_Ishtartor_05.jpg

Mario was writing us periodically with updates so that we [aka Jenny] wouldn't worry. She kept saying things like "I wonder what the boys are doing now," and "I wonder what the boys are doing now." It seemed like they were just hanging out at our apartment drinking and Olli was singing and playing the guitar. He's quite good at it for someone who is self-taught, and it's his biggest passion. We sent them a few pictures too.

Men's Day Fun - Olli (L) and Mario

Sophistication and Culture - Girls' Day at the museum

I am someone who can appreciate museums, but I do have my saturation point. I have to see the coolest stuff first because once I reach that point, I am just wandering around staring at more old stuff instead of appreciating it for how cool it is. I also have persistent lower back pain, compounded by too much time on my feet, so by the time we left the museum my back had fused into one grinding ache.

We went to Dolores, a California-Mexican restaurant. I had no idea that Dolores referred to the Dolores in San Francisco. The walls were plastered with blown-up street maps of the Dolores Park and Mission neighborhoods of the city. I stared at the maps, reliving my memories in that glorious city. The walking tour with my brother that we had to cut short because the poor guy's foot was fractured and he couldn't stand to walk anymore; the day in the park with my cousin, when a guy randomly brought out DJ equipment and was spinning tunes while strangers gathered around and had a mini-dance party, sharing weed and throwing beach balls around; the towering hills rising out of nowhere, making you feel like you were on top of the whole world as you stared down at the entire city... I was nostalgic but Jenny was unimpressed, so instead of blabbing on about SF I just stuffed my face with my vegan burrito bowl, feeling like a cow as twig-sized Jenny picked at her salad.

With our early dinners down the hatch, we headed to a nearby art gallery Jenny had seen online. She's an aspiring photographer and loves going to those things. It was.. Interesting. Very tiny, with only 12 or 13 exhibits crammed into a single small room filled with people. One of the pieces of "art" looked like someone had dug up metal chain link fence posts, painted them pink, and badly taped pieces of paper with Sinhalese writing on them. No joke. The concrete was still on the bottom of the posts. We moved around the room and Jenny gave me her artistic opinion on the art, which ranged from a picture of a man holding a mirror and looking at himself to abstract colors on canvas. There was also a painting of skeletons walking to a funeral, most of whom looked old and somber in pinstriped suits and bowling hats. They had normal bodies and hands, just skull heads. One was even in a wheelchair. And then towards the end there was this sassy voluptuous blond skeleton in a super short skirt and huge boobs, carrying a skull under her arm. Unfortunately there were no explanations of the art, so Jenny and I amused ourselves trying to explain what the heck was happening in this picture. My theory was that the bombshell skeleton was the mistress of the rich old skeleton who died and that's why she was prancing her way to the funeral. But who knows, really?

The room quickly filled up to the point that there was no more room, and we had already done our tour, so we squeezed past the artsy hipsters who were chatting with people like they knew everyone already. They probably did. There was a small camera crew outside interviewing the artists and we stopped to listen for a few minutes, but Jenny could see that I was itching to sit down so we headed back to her apartment for tequila sunrises and girl talk.


Stay tuned for Part 2! It involves a weekend stay in a hospital, 8 stitches, and ruined bloody clothes!

Pizza or Volcano

I mostly do all of the meal planning around here. And by "mostly" I mean that my boyfriend will occasionally buy a frozen pizza for lunch on days when I don't feel like cooking.  It's not his fault -- I am vegetarian, he's not. He can cook the heck out of schnitzel or a roast, I'm sure -- but when it comes to legumes and tofu and veggies he's 99% clueless.

Today he asked me to write a shopping list for tomorrow's meals. I spent 15 minutes looking around online for something and finally decided, "Pizza." I just didn't feel like dealing with finding something new, and I am burned out on pasta and Asian.

My boyfriend hesitated. I could see the wheels working in his head... "Pizza.. But I ate that last week.. And making it at home isn't great... Mehhhh..." Then he remembers my psychic powers, and that I know he's not crazy about pizza tonight. He also remembers that my last Pill was two days ago and my hormones are going crazy, stirring like fiery pools of magma under the Earth's surface, just waiting for a tiny fissure in the crust to appear so they can rage out, covering everything in a 100-mile radius with white-hot fury.

"OK, pizza is fine!"

Good man. 

"I just farted"

Originally this was supposed to be a quick post about a silly situation. I mean, when are farts not amusingly silly? But fart-related situations keep happening and it would be a shame to let them fade away into oblivion instead of sharing them with the world in all their glory... I'll keep updating this as they happen. If only for my own personal amusement.

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I was really sick for a week and a half. Not flu-like, thank goodness. No achy pains, no fevers, excessive snot -- just a persistent cough. Cough didn't really describe it. It was like smoking-for-60-years-and-I'm-trying-to-cough-up-my-lungs coughing.

It got worse at night, so Mario and I were sleeping in different rooms. Whoever went to sleep first got to the bedroom, and the other watched tv and slept on a temporary mattress in the living room.

On this particular occasion, Mario was in the living room. I walked in the next morning to say hello and get some morning cuddle time, which I'd been missing for the past 10 days.

"Good morning, baby!" I said.

"I just farted," he responded.

What a nice way to start the day.

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Him: I just farted
Me: You did?
Him: You didn't hear "pfffftttttttttt"?
Me: No. I didn't hear anything
Him: Oh, ok, then I didn't just fart

Smooth.

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Ähmmmm like everyone knows Seeed

Today was a holiday in Germany. Not in the US, unfortunately, so while Germans everywhere were enjoying their rather inconveniently placed Thursday holiday, I was at the office. As I maaaay have mentioned once or twice, I love my team, so it was less like work and more like hanging out with friends.

Around midnight I got a message from Dingens, who had been enjoying the holiday festivities all evening. Here is an excerpt. Please read all of his comments in italics in a very disdainful, incredulous tone (as in, "Do you know who Johnny Depp* is?" "No, who is he?" "O.M.G. you don't know? He's only like the most famous actor in all of the world. I can't believe you don't know him. Everyone knows him. Have you, like, been living under a rock or something?!?") *Johnny Depp is only the first name I came up with..but you have to agree, pretty much everyone in the world knows who he is

Hey wie ist die Arbeit

we are getting ready to leave soon

wie geht es bei dir

you still worked like long.I'm heading home. it was very good

good!! where did you go

we eat a Döner at the janowitzbrücke it's a thing we used to do and then we went to the east side gallery and met some other friends

sounds so nice!

yeah it was. they are still there

btw do you know Seeed

?? no

no??

most famous band in Berlin. Google them

nope i don't know them

that's ridiculous

what are some good songs

ähhhhmmmmm like everyone

of course

look at you tube.it gonna show you the best ones. It's German though

do you like them?

yeah I do

in Berlin everyone knows them. It's nearly impossible to get tickets for their concerts

why are you asking me about it

I was just listening to them in my way home

and I was wondering if you know them because everyone who lives in Berlin should know them

My favorite part is "ähhhhmmmmm like everyone". I think I'm going to add "Ähhhhmmmmm" to my vocabulary. The umlauts (dots above the a) are very expressive. Like two disapproving eyes staring at you for being so ignorant. And just in case you didn't get that you are obviously not in the know, he follows with not one, not two, but three staring faces. The cold German Stare somehow echoes in their pixellated eyeballs, freezing the soul:

  

       

              

*shivers*

If you think that's bad, try being on the Ubahn. Buuuut back to topic..Seeed. Wiki says:

Seeed is a German reggae/dancehall band from Berlin. Founded in 1998, they have become well-known in Germany and its neighboring countries. Seeed and Cologne's singjay Gentleman are among Germany's most popular reggae musicians.
Seeed consists of eleven band members, including three singers, a horn section and a DJ. Seeed is recognized for their unusual use of horns. They have worked with Cee-Lo Green, Anthony B, Tanya Stephens, General Degree as well as other Jamaican artists and producers. Almost all of their music releases feature a popular guest experience.

Anyway, so the rest of you won't have to share in the shame of my ignorance, here are some of Seeed's songs. It is a sound that comes from Berlin, more upbeat and electronic than reggae to echo the vibrant electro scene here. Like many American rappers, the lyrics often refer to their hometown of Berlin and the music videos feature the city as well. Watch and enjoy the sights and sounds of my new home, because ähhhhmmmmm like everyone knows Seeed.

Playing the Tourist

Today was a good day. A really good day. I played the tourist, but it was with good company, so it's an acceptable evil. Have I mentioned before that I despise tourists?

Woke up around 8 to sound of World War 3 in the kitchen, aka my roommate unloading the dishwasher. I don't even mind it -- I could have be living with a slob instead of the tidy Italian. The noise is more like a friendly alarm clock than an annoyance.

I had some coffee and studied German for a while and ate Speisequark (the Greek yogurt on crack) mixed with a perfectly ripe nectarine and some nutmeg. I found a good house DJ on Soundcloud, Der Hausjunkee. The sun was shining merrily outside and I don't work tomorrow because of Memorial Day. It was already shaping up well.

Around 1 Dingens messaged me and asked what I was up to. At that exact moment I was laying on my couch singing, a pastime that I am sure pleases my roommate to no end but is something I love to do when the mood strikes. Don't judge me. I can't sing in the car anymore, gotta get my fix somehow and on the U Bahn surrounded by emotionless Germans doesn't seem quite right.

Anyway, I mentioned that I was going for a walk later. Dingens asked if I'd like to meet him and go for a walk in Tiergarten, a sprawling park close to his apartment. I'd never been, and time with Dingens is always time well spent, so I rushed to get ready and out the door in time to meet him punctually, per German custom. Dingens is from West Germany, not Berlin, so he is painfully punctual.

True to form, he was waiting for me on the Sbahn platform. We meandered through the park, which was crowded with people enjoying the weather. It really is lovely, with tree-lined canals filled with rented rowboats. People were picnicking along the banks wherever they could find a sunny spot of grass. I made a joke about German nudity, and sure enough a short while later we came upon a sunny meadow filled with naked people sunning their buns. It reminded me of Castro in SF, back when nudity was legal.

Tiergarten

Rental rowboats

Statues everywhere

We made our way past the President and Prime Minister's homes. Both were large, stately buildings that looked more like the White House than a home. I was surprised at how low the security was--only a small iron fence and a guard house with just one man at the gate protected the buildings.

Schloss Bellevue

From there we made our way to the Siegessäule, Berlin's Victory Column. It's an imposing monument set in the middle of a multi-lane roundabout, a tall column crowned with a shining gold statue. Originally created to commemorate the Prussian victory in the Danish-Prussian War of 1864, the column was augmented with the statue after subsequent victories in the Austro- and Franco-Prussian wars. It also stood in a different part of the city, but the Nazis moved it to its current location closer to the Brandenburg Gate. It survived the war with minimal damage, but the smooth marble is pockmarked with bullet holes.

Siegessäule from above

Siegessäule from the park

Murals on the lower balcony

Bullet holes, courtesy of trekearth.com

The tiny, winding staircase seemed to go on forever but the view of the city from the top was magnificent and completely worth the climb. Once we got to the viewing deck, Dingens kept up a running commentary on which buildings were important. It struck me how un-European Berlin looks. Normally there is an "old" section of the city, filled with red-roofed buildings clustered by a river. Newer buildings surround that section, and industrial sections pop up in the fringes.

In contrast, Berlin is a hodgepodge of everything. It's a sprawling city, more like a smaller version of LA than Paris. Old buildings which survived the war are mixed in with ugly 70-era square architecture from rebuilding, and modern marvels are dotted here and there along with smokestacks from random factories and power plants. Expanses of green parks give some relief from the crazy mix of buildings. Dingens shared matter of factly that "44% of the city is made up of parks, which is one of highest ratios of any city in the world."

View from the top, on a cloudy day. TV Tower, Berliner Dom, and Brandenburger Tor are visible

We headed back downstairs -- much easier than going the opposite way -- and headed towards the German Parliament building, the Reichstag. We stopped on a bridge and watched the never-ending line of tour boats float underneath us, waving to a few of them to show that Germans can be quite nice after all. They were all too happy to wave back, even snapping some pictures.

tour boat cruising by the Berliner Dom

We went to the Brandenburger Tor next. Lines of carriages and very bored horses waited for tourists. Dingens shared that he's always wanted to take a carriage ride, but we both agreed that a snowy winter day would be ideal. The poop bags would be too smelly on a warm day like today. One of the horses started peeing as if on cue.

Brandenburger Tor (Brandenburg Gate)

Bored ponies. I pet one of them and barely got a blink.

We sat on a bench and people watched. We tried to guess nationalities from clothing styles and talked about random things while soaking up the sun and making fun of the tourists. I always ask a lot of questions and today was no different. He answered all of them thoughtfully like a good German, pausing for a moment before responding.

After the crowd started to thin around 6 we got a couple of cappuccinos at Alexander Platz, a small restaurant/shopping center/movie theater with some impressive architecture.

Not a bad location for a coffee

 Unfortunately we were bombarded with a looping trailer for Blended. Correct me if I'm wrong, but trailers normally showcase the best parts of a movie, right? If those were the best 3 minutes of the movie they could put together...Doesn't bode well for the film overall. Made a mental note to NEVER watch it. Just one viewing of the trailer was sufficient. I think maybe being stabbed with a butter knife might have been preferable to a looping half hour of the trailer.

When we could take it no more, Dingens and I headed back to the nearest S Bahn station. We said our goodbyes and I headed back home on the warm U Bahn that smelled slightly of human sweat. This is a bad omen, as it wasn't even really warm today. Note to self: buy a bike to avoid the cesspool of public transport BO funk that is certain to accompany summer.

Normally I am dead-set against doing touristy things, but with such amazing weather and company it was OK. I was actually really happy to see a different part of the city

Dating in Germany: Part 1

So, I will admit it. I am pretty clueless about dating in Germany, despite having had 3 German boyfriends in the past (plus Dingens). I met two of them in the US, so the courtship was on American terms. I guess there's an unspoken rule to do as the Romans do or something. So now the shoe is on the other foot, and it's up to me to accommodate the other culture. It's not easy though. The whole scene is just so different from the US.

How it normally works in the US:
Girl goes out to a bar with friends. Total Stranger Guy comes up and starts conversation with this girl, probably with some cheesy line or an offer of a drink. Girl accepts. They exchange numbers (or go home together). They see each other again, usually for lunch or coffee. Commence awkward "Getting to know you" conversation because they were too drunk during the initial meeting to remember anything they talked about. They see each other again, maybe for dinner or a movie. And after a few more dates, it's time for the talk (even more awkward than the coffee date.. "Soooooooo, just wondering.. Am I your girlfriend?") And then it's official and everyone is happy.

How it works in Germany:
Girl goes out to a bar with friends. Total Stranger Guy looks her in the eye for about 3.5 seconds. Girl thinks "I wonder if he'll come over to talk to me." He doesn't, but ten minutes later, Guy looks her in the eye again. 5 seconds this time. Girl wonders, "Do I have something on my face?" Later on in the night, they cross paths again. Guy looks her in the eye again. Still from several feet away, still no conversation. Girl thinks, "He's a fucking psycho," and stays away from him for the rest of the night, pointedly ignoring his stares.

It's something like this:

"Hey girl, I'm totally into you." 

No wonder the birth rate in this country is declining.

After doing some research on the subject, it seems that there are some underlying cultural reasons for their roundabout flirting.

Germany is a progressive country. The machismo culture of the Mediterranean seems to be directly related to the average annual temperature -- the further north you go, the less of it there is. By the time you reach Germany, the women are fully equal in society and relationships. They are practical, independent, and to the point. This means they are totally OK with saying "I'm not interested, go away." Apparently this has happened often enough over time that straightforward hitting on has been weeded out of the culture, and now guys signal that they are interested with a look lasting longer than a few seconds. Or multiple looks. Then the ball is in the girl's court. The German flirting is a definite improvement over the annoying random guy grinding behind you at a club. It was just really weird until I realized what was actually going on ("Why are there so many creepers with staring problems in here??")

One blogger put it quite succinctly: "Basically, men are afraid to make fools of themselves, because that’s precisely the risk that flirting entails, and Germans don’t go in for risks. They like to do things properly and thoroughly, not spontaneously or irrationally."

I can vouch for that. Dingens is a prime specimen - good looking, intelligent, diverse interests, etc. Yet for all his good attributes, he's super sensitive and constantly worried that he will do/say something that will show him in a bad light. I finally told him, "Look, I like when people are weird. I am plenty weird and do tons of stupid things. I like you, so just be yourself." He was relieved and he's opened up more since then, but it makes me wonder -- what the hell do German women do for men to be so skittish?

Fun possibly related fact: German men are trained to pee sitting down from a very young age. It has sparked quite a few threads, including this hilarious one from reddit: "A woman was saying that it was totally gross if men stand to pee because they splatter pee all over the place and the men were hanging their heads in shame although one guy did say that he's allowed to stand to pee at the toilet he has in the basement." Pure gold. You'll often see signs politely demanding "Bitte im sitzen pinkeln" - please pee sitting down.

 yatego

Anyway, back to the topic..Another reason why it's unusual to be hit on here: Germans, like the French, are cliquey. They have a core group of friends and it's hard to "break in" as an outsider. If they go out, they normally stay just within that group. It's a blessing and a curse -- great if you are also just out with your friends and not looking for anyone..BUT, if you're interested in meeting someone new, good luck and be prepared to do the leg work!

So, let's say that you  have mastered the "German pick up line" and how to initiate conversation after the guy gives you the look. Congratulations, you've finally managed to get a date with a German! But the cultural differences don't stop there. There are still some important things to note before the date itself. German men are:

• Extremely punctual.  He might even be *gasp* early and irritable if he has to wait around for you. The exception is if he's more Berliner than German, in which case he'll likely be fashionably late. Still, it's better to be ready on time -- you never know.
• You have to plan ahead for dates. Germans love scheduling things, and you're likely to get "I already have plans," if you wait too long to set a date. He's not blowing you off -- German honesty doesn't allow that, and he'd just say "I don't really like you." Nope, he has actually already made plans. Spontaneity is not valued much here.
• Neither is small talk. Germans are direct and say what needs to be said, not much more. Expect to get into engaged conversations about things they are interested in and serious, well-thought answers to your questions. The plus side: he will remember what you say because he's not just daydreaming in his happy place while you blab on about your (recent shopping trip, night out with your girls, dog back home, etc).
• Also, Germans are unwavering in their opinions. They consider all the facts before making up their mind about something, but once they decide the 'best' way, they think all other conflicting opinions are moronic and not worth considering. My first German boyfriend said "That's so stupid," in response to a comment I made. The directness and honesty was quite a shock to me, especially having grown up in the South and being used to white lies to protect the others' feelings and be polite. The memory is actually burned into my mind, like when something traumatic happens to you.  
• They study way longer than Americans -- it's totally normal to meet a 28 year old who's still in uni. Be prepared to talk about things other than careers, and forget about finding a young successful businessman (or engineer, in the case of Germany. I think engineering is the only acceptable course of study here).
• They are not religious. 56% of the country is atheist/agnostic, as Germans are far too practical to believe in something like an omniscient bearded man living in the clouds. True to form, the direct and honest German might even scoff openly if the subject comes up. 
• Expect to split the bill. German women are equals, remember? Sorry to all my ladies who go out on dates just for free dinner and drinks -- that won't fly here.
• Also, don't ask questions if you don't want an honest answer. "What do you think of my new dress" might not get you the white lie that an American would give. "Mmhh, I don't really like the color" is a perfectly acceptable answer here. On the plus side, if he says he likes you or pays a compliment, you can trust that it's how he actually feels. Just be sure to repay the favor and resist your temptation as an American to be polite and avoid hurting feelings. He'll take you at your word, and you might find yourself dragged to watch countless football (soccer) matches because you once said "I like football" in an attempt to seem cool.

So, keeping this in mind -- Part 2 will discuss what to expect when you're actually seeing each other regularly. Once you get the basic principles of German culture down, it makes sense. But at first the learning curve is a bit steep and you might be left wondering "Does he even like me?" as I did many a time.

So why don’t men here flirt? Partly it’s about conforming to standards: getting a wolf whistle as you walked down Unter den Linden would be a bit much. But I don’t believe any German woman could justifiably be offended by being approached by a friendly stranger – that’s just an excuse. Basically, men are afraid to make fools of themselves, because that’s precisely the risk that flirting entails, and Germans don’t go in for risks. They like to do things properly and thoroughly, not spontaneously or irrationally. Forget genetic predisposition, or even cultural conditioning. Germans just aren’t into extreme sports.S

So why don’t men here flirt? Partly it’s about conforming to standards: getting a wolf whistle as you walked down Unter den Linden would be a bit much. But I don’t believe any German woman could justifiably be offended by being approached by a friendly stranger – that’s just an excuse. Basically, men are afraid to make fools of themselves, because that’s precisely the risk that flirting entails, and Germans don’t go in for risks. They like to do things properly and thoroughly, not spontaneously or irrationally. Forget genetic predisposition, or even cultural conditioning. Germans just aren’t into extreme sports.