How to recognize your future ex husband...

And in most random book titles....  I came across an article while surfing the internet last week talking about "how to recognize your future ex-husband"  Of course it had me piqued for a number of reasons, most obviously now that I'm divorced and have tried my hand at dating, I realize I still have some fears to deal with.

You see, the man I married was pretty much the definition of narcissist. In a sentence "It is difficult to recognize a narcissist because he (or she) spends all of his time acting, protecting his ego by presenting to the world a mask a false image of himself. " 

After 2 years, I feel great about myself and wouldn't look back.  But for the first year, I pretty much beat myself up everyday with things like "I should have known better" and though I'm much more gentle on myself and as cliche as it is, I still fear I won't be able to recognize the signs if faced with a similar situation. 

This is where the book comes in.  The article I read basically sums it up to the things you rationalize while dating.  Of course it seems obvious, but how many of us are blinded in the moment?  We'll see what else the book goes into and if it has any gems of info, but at the very least, it'll make great coffee table fodder when my girlfriends come over!

Is there a middle ground?

One of the things I've been making myself try to do since moving here is to force myself to go out and socialize.  By anyone's definition, I'm outgoing but oxymoronically, but I'm really, really awkward and going out and talking to new people.  If there's already a connection thru friends of friends, it's easier for me cause we have a starting point.  But to blankly go out and socialize?  I'd rather eat eggplant.

But in order to go out and expand my social circle, I force myself out to various English Stammtisch's (where fellow ex pats get together and mingle)  I've been so overcome approaching an entire group of people that I don't know that I've actually gone to them and then walked away out of fear!  It brings me back to being the new girl in school constantly as a kid and trying to make new friends.  I guess there's some things we'll never get over!

One of the things I'm most uncomfortable with is small talk.  The whole "where are you from? what do you do? nice weather we're having"  I'd rather people share their stories, debates, whatever.  So I should have known better when I was recently complaining to friends that one of the things I disliked about the stammtisch's and meeting new people was the small talk.  I should have known Murphy was going to bite me in the ass.  He's bitten me in the ass a number of times, like when I told an ex boyfriend that if India was the last place on earth, I didn't want to go.  Well, 5 trips for me to India later, ex boyfriend hasn't gone!

It started out innocently enough.  My friend A (who is hyper social and making me work thru this fear of meeting strangers) approached a table and started talking to them.  Since she broke the ice, I felt more comfortable joining in.  Then I got to talking to an Israeli fellow, and if he knew what small talk was, he wasn't letting on.   I had mentioned I'd gone to Israel before so thought that would be a good common ground.  Well, it turns out he was a missile designer and for two hours he gave me his take about peace (or lack thereof) in the middle east.  Don't get me wrong, certainly I'm not opposed to political conversations, but this was getting heavy.  Ever try to discuss the Israel/Palestine crisis with an Israeli missile designer? 

Why is it that small talk, like dating, there doesn't seem to be any middle ground?

Germany, throw a girl a bone.

Well, Deutschland. You and I have been intimate now for 7 months. Ours has not been an easy relationship. I met you with an open mind and had no preconceptions of how you would be to live with. Sometimes, I think you’re just playing tricks on me. Like the time I was locked in the dark bathroom stall at work facing my one and only fear of claustrophobia or the one where I couldn’t figure out how to make my German car go in reverse, open the gastank or the trunk. I know that you have an odd sense of humor. What else can explain those two dots over your vowels that make words unpronounceable? Other times, I think you’ve just been cruel to me. I mean really? A plumbing issue that’s lasted over 3 months in a language I don’t understand. I’m starting to be convinced that I must have seriously offended German plumbers in a former life and I’m paying for it in this life.


As a foreigner, I’ve accepted your bizarre rules. Like the fact that I can’t wash my car or grocery shop on Sundays but I CAN pick berries, visit prostitutes and gamble. I do struggle with the fact that a lot of your rules are unwritten and that I’m somehow meant to just “know” these things.


I can’t help but feel like the crazy one in the room since all your fellow countrymen all seem to ask me “Why are you here?” when they find out I’m from Canada and for the first time, I’m starting to wonder myself.


Germany, I am accepting of your faults and hope you will be of mine, but I’m starting to ask myself, “if you didn’t want me here, why did you pick me to move here”. I know I got a tattoo a few years ago to reinforce my belief of “What doesn’t kill me, makes me stronger” but do you really need to test out my theory every day of the year?


I do thank you for giving me great friends, because without them, I would have melted down (and I also would have less of a liver) You see, they’ve known you a lot longer than me and so they’ve learned how to live with you and provide me with meaningful advice.


But how about we let bygones be bygones and we put the past behind. I still have high hopes for you Deutschland and I still believe in you. But I’d really, really, REALLY like it if we could make things just a tad easier. I don’t mean lay out the red carpet for me or anything, but I’d sure love it if everyday of my life you didn’t test my evergrowing patience and make things just a little bit smoother. So can we agree to put our differences aside and maybe you can let me co-exist quietly and a little bit more hassle free alongside you? Deal?

German efficiency: 0 Ongoing frustration: 1

I should have known it was too good to be true.  Though I've only lived in Germany 7 months, I've figured out that nothing is as simple as it seems.  In North America, we hear constantly how Germany is one of the last bastions of efficiency. And I still say, lies! lies! and lies! 

It's been 3 months since the pipe burst inside my bathroom wall and the plumbers came to make a one meter tall by half a meter wide hole in my bathroom.  When that happened, the plumber explained to me (in German and charades) what would need to happen.  It involved about 5 different workers coming and doing their part and everyone thought it would be finished within 2 weeks.  Flash foward 3 months:  they had to take the kitchen out for 3 weeks, dry the walls for 2 weeks and then there was no activity for about a month. A month after the walls were dry, some clown came by to look at the wall and make an estimate. Nothing again for 3 weeks. 3 weeks later, the same clown came back to look at the hole and make an estimate. Then nothing. Then, FINALLY after me flipping out on my landlord (who said to me and I quote... "if you're sick of the hole drape a towel over it!") and any worker that would come by, someone made an appointment to come back for 2 days and fix this once and for all.

The day came today. I was skeptical, but excited. Finally, Helmutt (after 3 months I figured I should name it!) got shut. I was excited. Even though the workers showed up at 7am the day after I got back from Asia and jetlagged, I sucked it up. After 6 hours of the workers being here, they told me the job couldn't be finished because one of the clowns ordered the wrong tiles! Of course he did. Why would I expect this to be fixed within the year? I should have known better...

The (un)glamorous life of business travel

I'm supposed to be in shanghai right now, but instead, I'm stuck in Ho chi Minh city. I heard about typhoon mufia so checked the reports before bed and all looked well. My flight was at the ungodly hour of 730, which meant I had to get up at 4:30am. I checked the airline and airport website before leaving the hotel and everything still looked to be on track for departure.

I was a little apprehensive since mufia was meant to be the biggest typhoon in HISTORY! But before I went to bed last night, they said it had calmed down and the brunt of it was going to miss shanghai.

I've never been afraid of flying, I credit it to my first experience on a plane: I was 6 years old and my grandmother had taken me to (then) Yugoslavia for a month. On the way home, a piece of satellite cracked or broke the cockpit windshield and the plane started decompressing and the emergency masks came down. I still remember my grandmother putting the mask on me and everyone crying and praying on the plane. We made an emergency landing in London and I remember feeling like my world had ended because on the way off the plane, my favorite doll blew away (6 year olds and their priorities you know )

Since then I've been lucky, my flight experiences have been less dramatic. The closest I've come in all these years and dozens of flights was being in a propeller plane thru a thunderstorm in south India. I believe it was also the first and last time I prayed!

I love that I get to travel for work and still pinch myself that it's been a perk for the last 8 years. But to say work travel is glamourous, is a big myth (almost in the same proportions of saying Germany is efficient!) crowded airports, swine flu outbreaks where laser thermometers are randomly pointed at your forehead, hotels that take hours to figure out light switches and seeing your life flash before your eyes on an Indian road one too many times are just part of the fun and part of the job.

Even through missed flights, crazy traffic, stressful meetings and 150% humidity, I still love travelling for work and love that it's a perk. But glamourous, it is not!

Why your clothes about to get a whole lot more expensive

Clothing has been made in china since the late 70's or so. However, until 10 years ago there was quota on all clothing being made and shipped to any country that was part of the WTO. Quota was set by each country that imported clothing from china. Each factory wanting to produce clothing for the 1st world would request quota and quota became a commodity. Manufacturers would sell their extra quota or buy leftover quota from their competitors. As a result quota was operated on the basic supply and demand system of economics. When I started in the garment business back in 1999, us quota for cotton woven pants (the most valued commodity) was priced in the neighborhood of us $3.00 per pant. If you consider that the total wholesale cost of an "average" pair of pants leaving the factory was in the $10 range, quota played a big part of the total garment cost.

Then, in 2001, the WTO deemed quota unfair and the floodgates opened. Clothing manufacturing in china took off. Like a bullet train. People couldn't build factories fast enough and retailers couldn't place orders fast enough. In the past 10 years china has become the world's closet.

But in the past 10 years, a funny thing happened. Factory owners were getting rich, workers, though paid little, were able to send money home to their families and give their children an education. In that time, workers started realizing that they could walk across the street and make iPods for more money. So to entice new workers, factories had to keep increasing wages. Then the cost of every day goods like food started to get more expensive and workers started striking to make more money and factories had to give in or lose their workforce and now after ten years of this and the cost of labour is going up. And up. In the past year alone, wages for the average Chinese clothing worker have gone up about 30%.

And now that we have all become reliant on cheap disposable clothing, these increases have become hard to swallow. They have been great for China and arguably for the Chinese worker (though they make what we consider a pittance, workers are still able to send home a third of their wages home to their family in often rural areas)

As the labour costs of China have gone up, retailers have begun looking elsewhere: Thailand, Indonesia and Vietnam. So in the past 5 years clothing manufacturing in these countries has also taken off. The wages in these countries are still lower than china's, but because growth has been faster in these countries, wages have had to rise faster. From Vietnam (where I'm travelling for work right now) they're experiencing double digit inflation and the government has had to raise the unemployment rate 3 months ahead of schedule.

Clothing, unlike most other things for the past 15 years has been coming down in price because of cheap labour, but now that the clothing industry is slowly running out of "cheap" labour our days of disposable clothing may not be far behind.

Some in the industry think that with all these price increases, it just may come full circle. Now that the manufacturing countries are gaining a middle class, they'll change into consumers and the consumer countries will turn back into the manufacturing companies. That may be a bit drastic (for now) considering the average textile worker in china makes just over $100 us/month, but food for thought....

Little mangosteen, oh how much I love thee.

The first time I met a mangosteen was in Thailand.  I was fascinated by this oddly shaped little thing with a cute top. When it was cut open for me, I was a bit freaked out by this thing that looked liked a baseball shaped eggplant but looked like a garlic bulb on the inside and I was very reluctant to try it (as much as I love food, I get freaked out, sweaty and clammy when forced to try new foods.  It was honestly less scary to jump out of a plane then me having to try new foods)  I was hesitant but it was a business lunch and I wasn't going to walk into another opportunity to humilate myself so I did.  And it was amazing!  It may look like a bulb of garlic but it tasted like deliciousness.  It sort of had the texture of a lychee but was a thousand times more delicious. 

Because the mangosteen is quite elusive (due to the fact it's not sprayed, it has really strict import rules into the western world) of course I wanted it more.  Kinda like the forbidden fruit.  Literally.  So whenever I'm in Asia, I always have one eye on the open street markets out for these mangosteens.  And when found, I've been known to buy an obscene quantity and gorge on them for dinner. What? they're high in antioxidants and good for me!!!

So imagine my surprise when they showed up at my business lunch today.  It was like I won the lottery! My eyes lit up and I could see or hear nothing else.  focus. on. the. mangosteen.   I tried really hard to hold back and not eat them all (I did a good job, but I think everyone was kind of afraid to get in between me and the mangosteen)

So little mangosteen, I love you.  You're quite possibly the best fruit I've ever tasted. 

Why did the foreigner cross the road?

I've been temporarily let out of Germany and I'm in Asia for two weeks on business: One week Ho Chi Min City and one week Shanghai.  I'm considering it a bit of a luxury to only have to deal with a 6 hour time change (rather than the usual 16 hours from North America) and to only have to be in 2 cities in 2 weeks.  My previous work trips have been known to include 4 countries in 9 days.

A collegue gave me a strict set of instructions last year before my first visit: cross at the zebra stripes, walk slowly and at a consistent pace and look straight ahead.  Don't look left or right and whatever you do, don't flinch.  When he gave me those instructions, I laughed.  After all, I grew up in Montreal and consider myself a professional j-walker.  I've been to India 5 times and saw the craziness that is traffic (though you couldn't be a pedestrian in India due to the lack of sidewalks and sharing the space with cows!)  Yeah right I thought.  Surely, it's nothing.  Man, was I wrong.

Of all the crazy things I've done in my life, and there have been a lot, from jumping out of a plane, white water rafting class IV rapids in costa rica, paragliding off a mountain and getting a tatoo in Argentina, none have been as scary as crossing the street in Vietnam. No, really.

I stick to the rule of crossing only at zebra stripes or traffic lights. And even then, it's really, really hard not to flinch.  To have a car or motorcycle barelling ahead of you and to just keep going not knowing how agile they are, well, it's nerve racking.  The motorcyclists are use to this and have it down to an art.  I've had motorcycles come within 2 inches of me, literally!  The most important rule to follow is to walk at a consistent pace.  This way, motorists can gauge your speed and you won't mess up their system.  Flinch, and your toes (or worse) will get hit.

I've scoured youtube for the best example of what it's really like.  Some of the videos that people have posted aren't nearly as bad as what it's REALLY like.  But the video above is a pretty accurate example of what it's really like.  I've never been somewhere where I really had to analyze if I REALLY wanted to cross the street!

Half a year in

6 months ago today, I got on a plane at yvr and left friends, family, a comfortable job and a country I knew behind for a blind leap of faith.  Unlike my last major move, this one wasn't for love, but for a job.  I'm long over the jet lag, but it's still goint to take a long time to get over the culture shock!

These past 6 months have been a ride.  In a lot of ways, it's like relearning most of what you know.  I'll never forget 5 months ago, when I got my new (to me) car and I couldn't figure out how to put the thing in reverse.  Or how to open the trunk.  Or how to open the gas tank.  sigh. 

And then the panic that I would feel when I would go into stores and they'd say something to me.  Most of the time it was something along the lines of "Can I help you" but if they didn't say it in the only way that I understood, I was clueless.  Well, after 6 months, my palms have stopped sweating when people talk to me.  I still don't fully understand what they say, but the panic has subsided.

In these 6 months, I've also had to deal with a major plumbing issue (YES, the hole is still there- it celebrated it's two month anniversary last week), working in a mostly German environment (though we work in English, all my collegues are German and unintentionally forget to switch to English thereby keeping me out of the loop on some subjects) and seemlingly constant minor health issues (it seems like I'm allergic to every plant/tree/bush Germany can grow)

But through all of this, I have made an amazing circle of friends in such a short time and I'm so grateful.  For without them, there would be a whole lot more tears, empty wine bottles and charades.

For this journey at least, failure is not an option. 

When life hands you wasserschaden, head to Tuscany!

It all started with the dining room chairs. I had ordered them 2 months prior and was eagerly awaiting their arrival. It was the LAST thing I needed to complete my place! After nearly 6 months of transitioning (getting rid of old stuff, moving here, setting up, getting new stuff) the dining room chairs were the last step.

I dragged A with me to the store and we picked them up and carried them up to my place. We opened up the box and my face fell! Instead of the modern white moulded chairs with chrome legs and faux leather built in seat cushion it was this black leather and black/white heathered monstrosity.

I enlisted A’s German boyfriend to help. The next day he got on the phone to them and explained the situation. Long story short, yes, they gave me the wrong ones and I had paid in full for them, but they don’t know when the right ones are coming. And so they sit, in boxes in my hallway.

Since then, my place has been in chaos. Or, as the Germans call it “ein katastrof” the damage from the broken pipe is worse than they thought and so after a handful of workers have come and inspected the situation, I have walls ripped up, no stove or oven, pipes and dryers all set up in my house. When I came home the other day, I just stood in my apartment in shock. How? Why? Really??? I was so happy to be settled in and now I was living in a construction zone! After having a little cry (after dealing with relocating, I thought I was done the stressful stuff) I convinced myself it wasn’t the end of the world. Emailed my landlord and started negotiating for compensation (German tenancy laws are great that way)

And then, from nowhere, a silver lining appeared…

A girlfriend emailed me looking for a road trip partner to Tuscany. She had a free place to stay but no one to go with. Did I want to join? UMMMMM… YEAH! So instead of dealing with fans, landlords, moisture, mould, no stove (always a great diet plan- no stove = eating salads every night) I’m leaving it all behind for 5 nights in Tuscany. Ahhhhhhh…..

The start of beerfestival season

As almost anyone knows, Germans love their beer.  And so do Canadians.  So it's not without irony that this Canadian, living in Bavaria does not drink beer.  It's not that I don't drink alcohol, I socially engage in wine and other cocktails, but beer turns my stomach. literally.  The smell, the carbonation, everything about it.  But I love a good party more than I dislike beer and so with that, I'm going to my very first beer festival.

From now until the end of September, there are literally hundreds of beer festivals.  Every town and every neighborhood have their own little (or big beer fests) The biggest (and most touristy) being Oktoberfest in Munich. 

My first foray into beer festing, will be the Erlanger Bergkirchweih.  My friends have given me an idea of what to expect and given the descriptions, I'll want to stay sober for it.  The Erlanger Bergkirchweih is one of the biggest beerfests.  I've been told that it's basically Oktoberfest without the tourists.  It seems like it's the kitschy-ist of the kitsch without irony. 

To get into the spirit of things, my girlfriends and I have decided to get proper beer fest "outfits".  So earlier this week, we went shopping.  Specifically drindl and lederhosen shopping.  The best part about this is that here, these are not "costumes" but are actual outfits still worn regularly at such beer fests.  So, we bought our outfits at a regular department store and man, it did NOT let us down.  I did have my heart set on a drindl, but sadly my body shape was not meant to be dirdnl-ed.  It seems that I'm heavily lacking in the top department to make a dirdl proud.  And so, I settled for a kitschy pair of brown lederhosen complete with suspenders and checkered shirt.  The thought of wearing leather pants in June seems daunting, but thankfully the weather is calling for cooler temps.

I can't wait to get dressed up in my leather outfit, eat gigantic pretzels, surrounded by oompa bands, cheesy 70's band tributes, amazing people watching and drunken Germans.  It's sure to be a highlight of the summer.  I just hope that I give my lederhosen a lot more coolness than this guy!

Der, Die, Das oh how I hate you.

Well, it was 4 months last week since I've been in Germany.  I've been making a "bit" of progress on the language front.  I've had a couple more German classes and we're now on the highly dreaded "der, die, das".  Being able to speak French, I get that some languages have a (non-sensical) masculine and feminine distinguishment of nouns.  In french, the garbage is feminine and the book is masculine.  It makes no sense.  But since I learned it and was schooled in it as a kid, the distinction becomes second nature.  But now in my (ahem) late 30's, and picking up a 4th language, it's a lot harder.  Add to the fact that German has the added "bonus" of a "neutral" article.  Good lord.  And of course, there is no rhyme or reason to why things have der, die or das.

So far, my German has been on a need to know basis.  If I need to know something, I look it up and practice it before I have to say it.  This works particularly well in stores where the request is simple and I won't be left staring blankly after their response.  I've been particularly sucessful with "Haben Sie?"  (Do you have...)  I've learned a lot of words this way; like rauchmelder (smoke alarm),  reiningungsprodukte (cleaning products and a ridiculous mouthful) and knochen (bones- what? I have a dog!) 

I'm getting to a point though where I have a repertoire of a few (very few) sentences.  Because they're the only ones I know, I say them all the time and so am starting to be "believable".  The issue with this though is that people assume since you know these words, you must know more and so they babble on and on at full machine gun speed.  And I'm left staring blankly.  I go with the hope I can recognize a word, body language, hand signal, ANYTHING that will make me understand what they say.  My usual response is "I'm sorry, I only speak a little German" and theirs is usually "ahhh but you speak so good".  Yeah.  When you say the same 10 sentences over and over again, they start to roll off the tongue.

Since my German is so basic, I only know the present tense for everything.  It's interesting really.  It's like I have no past or no future.  only now.  I can only (sort of) tell you what I'm doing.  Not what I've done or will be doing.  In principle, it's not a bad place to be, but I can't help but feel like a 3 year old trapped in a late 30's body. 

Plumbing Drama

Last week, randomly, 2 men showed up at my house wanting to have a look around because there was a puddle of water in the garage and they were trying to find the source of it.  As it turns out, the source of it was behind my bathroom wall.

My first reaction was panic.  From what I know of German tenancy laws, they're strange and I was half expecting to pay for the repairs (any damage deemed your fault, from regular wear and tear etc.... needs to be paid from the tenant) After some research and assurances from friends, I'm not responsible and don't have to pay for the leak.

They came back again the other day to do more investigating.  It turns out the damage is worse than they thought and have to break apart 3 walls, put in a new toilet and retile.  That's the short story.  The real story took about 3 hours, a lot of charades and an iphone app. 

You see, so far, I only have about 4 classes worth of German and I talk the equivalent (and sound) like a 4 year old child.  Sure, I can say "Hi, How are you?" "My name is Katherine, I have a dog, I live in Nuremberg" "My cat is sitting in the drawer" (don't ask- I don't even have a cat!) as well as my phone number and very few other basics.  However, plumbing vocabulary is NOT within my repertoire of basic German.  And English was not in the plumbers repertoire.  And so, we resorted to charades and an iphone app.  The charades were a given, but the iphone app was genius.  When, after lots of charading, I still wasn't getting what they were saying.  Plumber #1 spoke some German into his iphone and his phone said back to me "the experts are coming on Monday".  It was genius.  I kinda feel like it's cruel and unusual punishment to have to tackle plumbing German only 4 months in, but whaddya do?

The nice thing about the toilets in Germany is that all of the plumbing is built into the wall, so it looks nice and clean.  The bad thing about toilets in Germany is that they're built into the wall so when you have a leak the whole wall needs to come apart (witness exhibit a in the picture above) to make matters more interesting, my walls are entirely tiled so how they're going to make it look normal again with matching tiles is beyond me.  And my German doesn't extend to asking.  All I know is that my bathroom will be a disaster for 10 days and after that, things are supposed to return to normal.  I think.  That's what the iphone app claimed anyhow!

Pleasantville

Recently, some friends asked me how I was liking Germany so far and what I thought were the good (and not so good things) about my past 4 months in Germany. There are definitely lots of great things (cost of living, autobahn driving, work/life balance etc…) and some extremely challenging things (traffic, the language, the atrocity that is my pollen allergies, cost of health care etc…) but the best way to FULLY describe my German experience so far is to say it’s like the movie Pleasantville.


You see, living in Germany is almost like a throwback to the 1950’s but with some current day elements. For instance, the crime rate is extremely low and trust level extremely high. My neighbors leave their bikes unlocked, entire cases of beer in the garage next to their car and the doctor sends me a bill every few months knowing that it will eventually be paid. In the world of North America, this would be unheard of: the bikes and beer would be stolen and the doctor won’t look at you until you prove your medical coverage.


Also, the fact that this country is still fairly religious and church bells go off several times a day and of course the nothing open Sundays. I remember growing up as a kid in Montreal hearing some church bells, but I also remember them being banned because they were too bothersome.


People still call each other “frau” and “herr” in everyday conversation (the equivalent of Mr and Mrs) to be fair, this tradition seems to be mainly prevalent in the older crowd.


Despite all this, it’s still as modern a culture as everyone else and every ex pat I know has adapted to living in Pleasantville Germany quite well. People swear that they love that the shops aren’t open on Sundays (I still grocery shop on Saturdays looking like I’m preparing for a nuclear war knowing I can’t get anything the next day) In a way, it’s refreshing to have all of the modernities of life, without any of the headaches like worrying about crime rates and homelessness but I can’t help that it also feels a smidge naïve. I’m sure this isn’t the same for all cities in Germany, but that’s what Nurnberg feels like. It’s like a trip back in time… to a kinder, gentler and less hectic place. But it definitely takes some getting used to!

Things my mother taught me

I was thinking back, and I “think” this is the first mother’s day I was away from my mom. My mom and I are really close and I missed her this mother’s day. But instead of focusing on the missing her part, I looked back at some of the things she taught me. My mom was a bit unconventional to say the least, but now that in my late 30’s and can envision motherhood, I really admire that. Here are just few of the (mostly) unconventional things she taught me…
- In a pinch, white toothpaste makes a great hole filler in walls (we moved a lot!)

- Table manners and table etiquette are important. I used to hate that she used to set out full cloth napkins and wine glasses for my juice when I was a kid, but appreciate it now!

- Embrace your dreams, whatever they may be. As a teen, I used to think my mom’s “oh that’s nice honey, as long as that makes you happy” attitude to my career choices was nonchalance. I used to joke that it didn’t matter if I told her I’d become a hooker or doctor, she’d have the same response. I now know she really meant “follow your dreams”

- If you have fear, don’t let it show. My mom and I lived alone for a long time and between the 2 of us, we became really resourceful and self-reliant. I was always amazed that my mom could rewire the vacuum or hang a ceiling lamp. If it blew up, she’d turn off the fuse and start again til she got it right. When I was a teen and we caught a robber in our house, I was afraid to sleep in my bed the rest of the time we lived in that place. If she was afraid, she never showed it.

- Mayonnaise makes a great hair conditioner for dry hair. Egg whites and honey a great face mask in a hurry.

- Map reading is over rated. We would drive from Ontario to Florida every year. It was a 24 hour drive thru most of the Eastern US. Damned if my mom could read a map. Every time we made a stop, we managed to make a detour thru pretty much every ghetto from Detroit to Jacksonville. Somehow we made our way again and got to our destination every time though.

There are countless things that have been ingrained into who I am, but I'm thankful for all the life lessons that have been, are and will continue to be.  I love you mom and I miss you!

My part time job

Living in Germany has it’s challenges, but after over 3 months, I’m starting to get into the groove of things. For instance, I don’t break out into a cold sweat when someone starts talking to me in German (though, I’ve still only had 3 lessons because my German teacher has been rediscovering her Brazilian roots for the past month). Though the length and amount of traffic lights here still (and will always) drive me insane, I’m learning to accept it. And the biggest thing? I can drive a few places without my gps!


However, one thing that consumes a lot of my time, is dealing with my garbage. I don’t mean the theoretical “emotional garbage”, I mean the actual waste that I generate. Thankfully, I live alone, so I don’t generate a terrible amount of garbage, but the time it takes me to deal with my garbage is almost worthy of a part time job.


It’s not that I’m not used to recycling. In Canada, we’ve had this concept for a while and it was pretty easy: blue bag = everything recyclable, cans, bottles, paper, etc… garbage= everything else. Straightforward right?


In the "let's make things as complicated as we possibly can" world that is Germany, dealing with my garbage involves this:


- collecting bio waste (ie compost)
- regular garbage
- glass
- plastics
- paper
Pretty normal right? What’s not normal is that all of these things have to be collected separately and brought to different places. For instance, regular garbage & bio waste goes in the common bin downstairs. Glass has to be taken to bins down the street and sorted into brown, clear and green. Plastics have to be collected and put out in a common place (at the neighbors building) twice a week. Oh, and speaking of plastics, you have to put them into city issued yellow bags. When the bags run out, you can’t just go and buy more, you have to go to a special city run place (which is of course only open during work hours) and buy more. Paper gets it’s own bin (I’m lucky, also downstairs) It’s exhausting to figure out. I feel like I’m constantly taking out garbage! And to make matters worse, I just found out Germany is introducing a 6th dynamic: an orange bin. This bin is meant for “valuable recyclables” like old frying pans or broken toys. Great, this is now going to add a dimension of mystery to my garbage collection, what’s going to be considered a valuable? All I have to say is thank god I live alone, this would turn into a full time job if you had a family!

Spargel, Spargel everywhere

When I was interviewing for the job I now have, I did some research on Nurnberg and if it was a city I thought I could live in.  Surprisingly, according to wikipedia, the stats are pretty comparable to Vancouver.  Population:  Nurnberg  503,000 Vancouver 578,000.  So I thought it wouldn't be too much like living in a "small town".  And for the most part, it's not.  There's a good selection of international restaurants (including more thai restaurants per capita in the Western world!), a few decent bars and I can pretty much get a hold of anything I need.

However, the proximity to the "country side" here is as close as the wilderness was to Vancouver.  The city is surrounded by farm fields.   My office faces endless fields of canola (or rapeseed as it's called here, but I find canola a much better word)  My drive to work each day is like driving thru a salad.  Literally.  There's the red lettuce field, the green lettuce field, the rucola field, the green onion field (the most random, cause it actually smells like green onions when you drive by) and the garlic field.  Oh, and the endless spargel fields.

Spargel is white asparagus.  A delicacy in North America, but literally everywhere here that it starts to turn your stomach.  My friends had warned me that when it was spargel season you'd know, because it'd be EVERYWHERE. And let me tell you, they weren't exagerating!  On my way to work, there's at least a dozen signs advertising "frisher spargel".  Every meal at the cafeteria has a spargel component and hell, even my local big box hardware/home reno store store sells it (they also sell wine, but I digress...)

 I've researched this obsession with spargel and all I've come up with is that Germany produces 61% of the world's white asparagus.  The reason it's white is because the fields are covered with sheets to protect it from the sun.  No sun = no photosynthesis = white rather than green (good thing I paid attention in science class! ;) )

It's impossible NOT to get sick of spargel. It's practically being shoved down your throat!

Italian Road trip

One of the things I was looking forward to about living in Europe, was all the endless possibilities to discover and travel around Europe.  Other than a few visits to my friend in Frankfurt and a trip my grandmother took me on when I was 6, I haven't seen Europe. 

This weekend being the first long weekend since I've been here, I've planned a trip to head out and explore.  It was hard deciding where to go first.  The great thing about Nuremberg is that there are endless places to go within a 4 hour drive.
In the end, I decided to go to the Dolomites and do some hiking and exploring.  This picture is what sold me:

It seems quintesential "europe": cute village, amazing mountains and rolling hills.  I'm going with a girlfriend and my dog.  We're looking forward to exploring, hiking, cappucinos on patios (and maybe getting hit on by cute Italian men) and delicious food.

One of the things I always like to check out when going to a new area, is a spa or massage.  Thai massages in Thailand, Ayurvedic massages in India, hot springs in Costa Rica and a painful massage in China are some memorable adventures.   When I looked into spa treatments in the Dolomites, I came across this:

"this" is a hay bath famous in South Tyrolia.  A hay bath is meant to be relaxing, rejuvenating and can help some skin issues.  And all I can think of is "ick."  Not only do I have a wicked grass allergy that would surely give me hives, leaking eyes and nose, but I can't imagine this being relaxing (histamine overload aside)  wouldn't it be itchy as hell?  Part of me is tempted to overload on the anti-histamines and try it out of curiosity, but I fear I'll be picking hay bits out for days!

The first major language slip up

It was bound to happen.  When you learn a new language, you're bound to somehow make a food of yourself.  I remember being in Bolivia in 2000, learning Spanish and was finally feeling comfortable enough to order a meal.  I was so impressed with myself that I made it almost all the way thru.  And then, when the waiter asked me something I didn't know, I just smiled and nodded. I figured that would get me thru.  It turned out he was asking me which part of the chicken I wanted.  oh. The breast.  But I had no clue how to say breast, so, in a panic, I pointed at mine.  Well, it made Mr. Bolivian waiter's day.  I've never seen a waiter laugh so hard in my life.  Lesson learned, I'll never forget "pechuga" as long as I live.  But I thought that was all behind me.  I. was. wrong.

After over two months in Germany, I've picked up some German (my daily work is in English, though my collegues are all German and speak it regularly) but I still dread talking on the phone and avoid it at all costs.  At least in person, if anything goes wrong, there's always charades to resort to. But the time had come for me to buck up and talk on the phone in German.  I called the doctor's office to see if I could change my appointment to an earlier time.  Turns out, I hadn't properly thought thru what I was going to say.  What I meant to say was "I would like to come earlier".  I managed "I would like to come" and stopped.  I realized, I had NO clue what the world for earlier was!!!!! ooops. 

I was really, really hoping that the sentence didn't have the same connotation in German than in English, but when I told my collegue what I said, she killed herself laughing.  That could explain why the receptionist put me immediately on hold for a few minutes....

Frank the Pilates teacher

Because the past few months have been so hectic, I haven’t had time to keep up my regular exercise regime. Now that I’m finally settled in, I’m tackling getting back into shape.
Since gyms generally overwhelm me, I tried looking around for pilates classes. Last night was my first class.

I was a little overwhelmed going to a pilates class since I haven’t been in about 3 months and a lot overwhelmed that the class was going to be in German. At the beginning of class, I awkwardly told the teacher (in my Geman which sounds like a 2 year olds) that I’m new and only speak a bit of German. He asked me where I was from and said “Canada”. And that’s when the fun started.

For the most part, following along in Geman wasn’t to bad. After all, I could look at the instructor or the other students. At one point, I thought he said something like “pretend you’re eating a lemon”. I just figured maybe it was a German figure of speech or I misheard. I was wrong. He came around and demonstrated what “pretend you’re eating a lemon” was and so I tried hard not to burst out laughing.

While we were doing some sort of dry humping the ground move, he decided to get the class engaged and start a discussion on Canadian singers and having the class blurt out all famous singers from Canada. While dry humping the mat. Yeah.

Then, while we were doing some thighmaster move, he decided to starting singing, in full, Celine Dion’s “My heart will go on”. I told him that though Celine Dion is Canadian, us Canadians are more than happy to give her away.

Oddly enough, I did appreciate his odd sense of humor and his “Pilates Polizei” cracks. It made the fact I hadn’t worked out in 3 months seem less painful.

There are 10 more classes to go. I hope as hell that Frank the pilates teacher Canadian trivia doesn’t go for 10 more classes….