Guest Rant 3: Playgrounds.

Many foreign moms in Berlin will tell you that they secretly dread going to the playground because when the children are mean and aggressive to one another so many parents don’t do a damn thing about it.

This seems to be a popular philosophy among parents in Berlin: don’t intervene in the children’s play because they need to sort it out themselves. While it’s true that children need to learn how to resolve certain problems themselves and play independently (I am certainly not a proponent of helicopter-style parenting nor do I coddle my child), they need to be equipped with some basic social skills like sharing, “playing nice”, and (most importantly for those us with younger children), showing respect and consideration for children who are smaller or weaker than them. Otherwise you are applying darwinistic principles to your child’s socialization.

A typical visit to the playground involves shielding your child from older kids as they shove past/push your little one aside as he/she struggles to play on structures that are designed for older kids—in Berlin they don’t seem to take children under age 4 into consideration when designing playgrounds (for example: there are almost no baby swings). I have had seven and eight-year-olds (i.e. children old enough to know better) block my two-year-old on the slide, scream “NEIN!” and throw sand toys at her head if she came too close to the sand castle they were building, or jump wildly up and down on the little bridge she was precariously crossing to try to make her fall. In all of these cases there was a parent or Kita teacher looking on and doing absolutely nothing. I have spent enough time on playgrounds in other cities/countries to know that this is not normal behavior.

If you are one of the few parents actually supervising your child, you will be put into the awkward position of having to discipline children who do not belong to you. A simple, forceful command like “Platz machen!” or “Nicht hauen!” almost always does the trick because most kids know when they’re behaving badly and are subconsciously yearning for discipline. But you will also experience the opposite: adorable little children running up to you and asking you to watch them do something cool or help them onto the swing as their useless parent/caretaker sits nearby staring vacantly into a cel phone or smoking on the bench with friends (newsflash: smoking on the playground is socially unacceptable in other societies).

Sometimes I think the parents keep their distance to avoid social contact with other parents: if you are a mom from a country where chatting with strangers is normal behavior, you will be sorely disappointed to learn that in Berlin you will definitely not be making any new friends on the playground, nor will you come to expect a friendly chat now and then (on the rare occasion that it does happen, it feels like a gift from the gods). I made the mistake of trying to make polite small talk (nothing too personal, just something like “how old is your daughter?”) with the parents of children who my daughter would be playing with and more often than not got suspicious looks in return, like I was trying to initiate a life-long friendship or something! If you are already feeling lonely and isolated as a new mother, a trip to the playground will only reinforce this feeling.

But back to the aggressiveness: I would really love an explanation as to why so many parents in Berlin are so hesitant to teach their children to play nicely and to be considerate. (Maybe I should reread Lord of the Flies…?) For now I try to go to the playground whenever possible with nice mothers I know and their equally nice children. And then it’s really great fun!

Written by michicevedo.

Guest Rant 2: Snow.

Germans are good at many things. Snow removal is not one of them.

When I moved to Berlin from British Columbia (where it rarely snows) in 2008, I remember feeling really excited with the first snowfall that year. But as it kept snowing, it became increasingly difficult to walk. I was surprised to see that nobody ever shoveled it. At best, someone might sweep a little and throw a handful of gravel on it, neither of which was very effective. In more extreme cases, there was no human intervention at all.

Now I grew up in Georgia, so I won’t pretend that I have ever shoveled snow in my life. But I spent ten years living in the Northeast, and never once did I struggle to walk in 6-inch-deep snow or fear breaking my neck (or hip) on the sidewalk once that same snow had frozen over. In most American cities with snowfall there are strict laws about snow removal—it is almost a matter of pride, as my friends who did grow up shoveling snow have pointed out. A more cynical person might say that the sidewalks are cleared quickly in American cities to avoid lawsuits. Whatever the reason may be, no matter how much it snows, most sidewalks are always clear and walkable.

Not so in Berlin. And if you ask a Berliner why nobody bothers to shovel the snow, they will likely claim it is because the city is too poor to deal with it. Right. The capital city of the one of the richest countries in the world doesn’t have the funds to deal with snow. But anyway, this is beside the point, as it not the city’s responsibility to clear snow, but that of building owners. If you look at your lease, you will probably see that Winterdienst is included in your rent, so if the sidewalk in front of your building isn’t being cleared regularly, you’re getting ripped off, and so is everyone walking by your building.

Property owners who do assume their responsibility to clear the snow will hire these little cars that go around every once in a while and shave off a layer of snow while leaving a trail of gravel. This is not very helpful. The gravel will end up in your apartment and you will be sweeping it up all winter long. If you have a baby crawling around, he/she will likely swallow some, and it’ll end up in his/her diaper. I’ve heard a lot of people defend the gravel because they say that salt (which is what is used in the States and Canada) is bad because it contaminates the groundwater. I’m not sure why this is a problem, as Germans generally refuse to drink tap water anyway. I would also think that the millions of cigarette butts and tons of dogshit on the sidewalk might prove a bigger threat to the groundwater.

On those bits of sidewalk that the property owner hasn’t bothered with, you will have to fend for yourself. If you happen to have a child who likes napping outside (like I did), you’ll be pushing your stroller through what feels like really dirty, really cold sand for hours each day. You will be cursing yourself for having decided to live in this godforsaken place while commending yourself on getting such an excellent upper-body workout.

Meanwhile shop owners (too lazy to shovel the snow in front of their shops) will spend all winter mopping up the mess their customers track in from the rocky, filthy slush outside. Some will even get really annoyed at their customers, like the owner of a children’s clothing shop that hosted a music class I attended, who angrily forced every parent to clean the snow off their stroller’s wheels before coming in.

Needless to say, I am really happy it only snowed a couple of times this year!

Written by michicevedo.

Guest Rant 1: Pernickety.

You may or may not recognise the phrase 'wanting to go to the far end of a fart'. This effectively means, wanting to go into superfluous and unnecessary detail and sums up exactly my experience of Germans proofreading anything I write.

As  an 'eingedeutschte' Brit, I often take it upon myself to write letters, emails or texts in German. In fact, this is something I do on a daily basis, working in a German company. In some cases, when things require a particular formality or need to be absolutely mistake-free, I ask a real German to have a read over and more-often-than-not, this is how things go:

E.g. Me to my native German boyfriend: "Hey, can you listen to this text a minute please and let me know if my grammar and word order is correct?"

Him: "OK"

Me: Reads out text that I already somewhat corrected for a British friend

Him: "Hmmm, what's the context? Where will it be displayed? I'd leave that bit out and change that because the Germans wouldn't go for that. Why is the described process so long? I mean, if she did it like [blah, blah, blah], it would be so much easier!"

Takes laptop and looks concentrated

..... half an hour later.....

Me, looking at 'corrected' text: "I just wanted you to check my spelling and grammar, not change the sense of the whole damn thing!"
*Sigh*

We have a word for this where I come from: Pernikety.
....

Written by L: 

http://cuppateaanyone.wordpress.com/

Rant No. 28: Telling off.

Germans love to tell people off.

There seems to be an inherent feeling of moral superiority and also the need to impress these beliefs on others.

It might originate from a sense of community and social awareness, and perhaps they mean well with their advice, but it really doesn’t come across like this.

Wow, I’ve really never seen anything like it. You can be told off for being loud at a concert, for standing on the grass, or even going through a door the wrong way.

I grew up in Manchester, and there if you dared to look at someone the wrong way, let alone tell anyone off, you were likely to get punched!

Here, there seems to be no end of people ready to scold you or tell you how you should be behaving.

Once I had a really horrible experience with this. I was on the train to the airport. I was tired and I put my feet up on the seat in front of me. Don’t get me wrong; I know I was at fault. People aren’t supposed to put their feet up. But, I’m an adult, I chose to break the rules, and I didn’t think this was anyone’s business but my own.

Wrong. I was wondering for about 15 minutes why a guy further down the train was staring at me in an aggressive manner. He was a big guy with a skinhead, and I felt really uncomfortable. To the point that I almost got up to ask him to stop staring at me.

Anyway, when he got up to get off the train, he came up to me and screamed, “Fuße runter!” (Feet down!) really loudly and aggressively, as if we were in the military or something.

I was so shocked, I didn’t know what to do. I wanted to ask him what he cared, but I was too gobsmacked to speak. I put my feet down. I was scared!  

But I couldn’t stop wondering how someone could care that much about someone else having their feet up on a seat? He didn’t work for the train company. It wasn’t his train. He was never going to sit there. How could he really be that angry?

I guess I will never understand Germans!

Rant No. 27: Hierarchy.

In the workplace in Germany there’s a distinct sense of hierarchy. Of course, there is a hierarchy wherever you work, but in Germany it seems much more prevalent.

Titles matter. Sometimes it seems that the title matters more than the person’s experience or ability. Opinions, when they come from someone with a better title, carry much more weight. Even if no one else agrees.

It seems that you should never contradict a superior here. I was used to working in companies where everyone’s opinion mattered, and people of all kinds of experience interacted as if they were on the same level.

I also felt that as an intern in London I had more responsibility than I did as a junior in Berlin. There it seemed that I was given more autonomy and had a much more valued input, whereas here, the juniors just work in to seniors.

The people at the top make the decisions and the people at the bottom do the work. Hierarchy rules, and people can’t wait to climb that ladder so that they can finally get a say.

This hierarchy can often be detrimental to a working process, with so much missed when only the opinions at the top are valued, but it’s not going to change anytime soon.

And apparently it’s important to stick to your own hierarchical level and not bat above your weight. A friend of mine was even told off for having lunches with more senior colleagues! 

Rant No. 26: Chit-chat.

I will never take chit-chat for granted again.

Walking into a local shop and having a bit of a chat as I buy something. Walking into a pub and getting a bit of friendly banter. Coming into work, and being asked how I am, or how my weekend was.

I thought this was just what people did. But not all people. Not Germans.

I used to work with a girl who whenever I tried to strike up a conversation at the coffee machine, by asking her how she was, would reply “Fine”, not asking me in return, or adding anything in the way of input to the conversation. In the end, I gave up.

I used to sit opposite another girl who rarely ever even said hello or goodbye in the morning or evening. To me, this was just plain rude.

And then there was the guy who always says hello and goodbye, but nothing else.

Where is the banter? Why don’t they want to chat?

I decided that Germans must only like to have a conversation for a specific purpose. Not just because. I don’t know if this is true, but it’s the conclusion I’ve come to.

I’ve also realised that I really like to talk shit. I don’t think every conversation has to achieve something; sometimes it’s just good to chat, and have a laugh, about nothing in particular. I crave pointless banter, and it’s another thing I stock up on when I go back to the UK.