Final Blog: Thank you Germany!

My last blog. What I certainly will remember about Germany is the people´s friendliness. I met hundreds of beautiful persons that I´ll carry in my heart for the rest of my life. But as always all good things come to an end. In this post I´ll picture some of the nicest memories I gathered during my 5-months stay.

 

The best thing that happened was climbing the Halden Rungenberg, a hill on which you can have the nicest view over the Ruhr-area in the whole city of Gelsenkirchen, with my good friend Felix. It was dark, cold and in the middle of the night that we decided to go on an adventure. On the top I almost froze to death, but the delightful sight over this industrial area covered by blue light kept my body warm. An unforgettable evening!

 

The second thing I´ll never forget was our double house party. It was great to organize an event on our own living ground. People brought some booze, danced and just had fun. Due to the tremendous amount of sexual tension, our parties were baptized as ´find-yourself-some-nice-guy-or-girl-to-fuck-with´-ensembles. The days after could certainly be described as a living hell. The floor looked like ground zero covered with lots of cheap German spirits and the smell could have been compared to Felix sitting on the loo. Anyhow, it was worth it.

 

I will always keep the taste of German Wurst (sausage) in mind. I´m sure it will be enormously nostalgic to eat that nice specialty again in my own country on cold Christmas markets in December.

I would like to thank all the Germans for their hospitality in this beautiful country and I hope everything will go well after we´re gone. As an Erasmus student I can highly recommend the Westfälische Fachhochschule in Gelsenkirchen. If you want to have a great time with very good friends in cozy bars in the heart of Germans industrial area, I think this small town is a very good option.

 

Cheers for the Germans!

Germans and Rhythm

I want to write about this topic for a long time now, but I didn’t really feel the inspiration that was necessary. It’s all about timing.; doing it on the right moment. Not something that can be told of the Germans. When they dance, le big dilemma appears: “Shall I move on their rhythm or on my own?” Not that I have a physical problem dancing 2,5 seconds beyond the rhythm, but for some reason it doesn’t feel comfortable. I have to admit Germans have a very good musical taste. Partying on ‘old’ songs while singing the lyrics: totally my style. Especially when they create that echo-effect two and a half seconds later.

Let’s not forget that a lot of musical pioneers come from Germany: Kraftwerk, Falco, die Toten Hosen, Rammstein, die Prinzen, Nena,… Thumbs up for all of them, ‘cause they remind me of my childhood. When I go visit my German friends that survived both World Wars, it fascinates me that they’re all obsessed by the Industrial scene Kraftwerk made famous. They compare the band’s sound with the coal mine industry in the Ruhr-area. It’s part of their very own history, driven by nostalgia.

I’d like to end with presenting you an old song I heard for the first time this week. It’s Falco’s ‘Mutter, der Mann mit dem Koks ist da’, because it will make me think back of my wonderful stay here in the industrial area of Gelsenkirchen, where the people are sociable and addicted to drugs.

In my next –and last- blog post, I’ll write about the good capacities of the German people I met. For them that post will be the highlight of german-attitude.blogspot.com. Ciao!

The German Police

The German police… It’s something special. Totally different than the English, French or Belgian peacekeepers. That Germans don’t like foreigners is well-known, but the police should be unbiased if it comes to that. It started one night in Essen, when I missed my last train back to Gelsenkirchen. Since there was no one in the station, I asked the policeman in front of the entrance if there was any possibility to arrive at my destination in a short period of time. Because this happened in the beginning of my Erasmus period and I wasn’t capable to talk in his language, I asked him in English. He stared at me for five seconds, looked away and said to the air (in German) that it wasn’t his task to help me.

As you can imagine, my first impression wasn’t that good. Later that week I had an inattentive moment when I passed the street while the traffic light was red. I was trying to whistle, but didn’t succeed, so I walked further. All of a sudden a voice appeared, very silent. I turned around and saw a fat policeman (the real stereotype… again) yelling at me while he was sitting in the car. He didn’t want to come out. I was lucky that the fines in Germany aren’t high. Five Euros (I still wonder if he put it in his own pocket) and he let me continue my path, but he couldn’t resist telling me that if I wanted to live here, I had to speak the language. Gestapo style.

So, that’s what I tried to do. I don’t speak the language fluently, but it’s certainly better than the day I came here. Let’s hope it will improve even more during my last weeks in the beautiful town of Gelsenkirchen.

Germans men, women and gays

Funny, intelligent and playful. That’s the definition of authentic German women. They’re awesome! You really can’t miss their physical charm: a lovely smile, a perfect behind and a wonderful bosom. When I observe them carefully I become playful myself sometimes, as if they mentally transfer their abilities to me. How I want to be a German woman sometimes… Anyway, if you remember Lola from the movie ‘Lola rennt’, you know what I mean. Just imagine that she has a nice pair of gigantic tits. Perfection itself.

Not comparable with the average German man though. Just imagine the stereotype… Well, most of them are like that. Short hair and a blown up head put on a disproportional body with a protuberant beer belly. They’re all the same, which gives me an advantage. I’m different. I’ve got longer hair. There was only one straight man I met that really looked different, handsome in a way, but he turned out to be Greek. Shit happens.

What really fascinates me is how those beautiful women can pick their Hulk out of that masculine humdrum. They must be blind, naïve or just not picky at all. It makes polygamy or swinging quite simple, since they won’t really see the difference between their boyfriend and the guy that’s between their legs. Anyway, it’s a good excuse for being unfaithful. “I swear, my love, I really didn’t see it was your best friend Peter (say: Pétaah)!”

Enough about these goddamned straights! The gay community is much more interesting. German gays aren’t comparable with the German hetero guys. They áre different. Just think of ‘Brüno’ and you know what I mean. Since I’m here I still didn’t meet a homosexual dude that acts straight. It’s quite exaggerated. They don’t even have to open their mouth to make it clear: their pink manbag, special haircut and polished costume shoes betrays them. But at least they aren’t part of this masculine German uniformity. Gays and disabled man make the difference here. Amen to that.

The Germans and their fetish for talking bread

The eleventh of September, my fourth day in Germany. It’s a beautiful day. Children are playing in the park, my neighbours are doing their laundry in the garden and our landlord is fixing my television. After all these days of excitement I could finally be able to sit back and relax in front of a screen, watching entertaining programmes while trying to fall asleep. “It should work now”, the land lord yelled in my ear. I decided to expel him from my personal space by telling him that Sebastian also had problems with… something too.

He left. The television was mine. After petting it and whispering consolidating words, I decided to see what German TV had to offer. I pushed the red button on the remote controller, heard a ‘pssshhh’ sound and then the violated screen showed its wonderful beauty. All I could see were grey and white stripes. I almost killed myself.

After a few minutes I noticed that I didn’t turn on the digital television box. Stupid me. I laughed. Eventually it worked, but I only had one channel: the KiKa Lounge. It gave me a trauma. The only thing I could watch was a program about a talking, expired, yellow bread called ‘Bernd das Brot’. A very exciting show though. But eight days later I encouraged myself to jump through the window if they didn’t change the episode I had been watching for more than a week now. I was very surprised to see another tremendous scenario, in which Bernd was a magician. It fascinated me. But not anymore.

It’s the same episode for two months now. I’m already able to predict what Bernd is going to say. That’s not a good sign. When I was in Berlin and saw Bernd das Brot in the Reichstag, I felt some spastic movements coming up. A picture was taken. Wonderful, isn’t it?

If you also want to have some fun, I recommend you to watch this episode a dozen times. Maybe we’ll meet in the psychiatric department of the madhouse.

  

Enjoy and see you on Sunday!

Germans and Cinemas

I’m not really a movie lover, but last week I went to the cinema twice: the First time in Antwerp (Belgium), the second one in Düsseldorf (Germany). In Belgium I paid seven euros to watch The Hobbit. I didn’t like the film. For such a brilliant story there was too much humour involved, which made it lose its charm. Nevertheless I know I’ll watch the whole trilogy again, ‘cause it would be a shame not to.

Yesterday I went to Düsseldorf to see Life of Pi. An epic movie, you should watch it! I was quite impressed by the prices in that cinema. A single ticket cost fourteen Euros, twice the amount as a movie in Belgium. Let’s call it German style. I saw a lot of ugly Germans and tourists with a gigantic box of popcorn and a one litre fifty coke. They could barely carry it. Even a fat man looked thin with these huge things in his hands.

  

When I was waiting in the queue to order some movie snacks, I couldn’t really read the prices. Then I got closer, looked at the screen and almost fainted because of the exaggerated amount of money they asked for a coke and popcorn. Six Euros for a coke, six for puffed corn. Since I only brought twenty Euros and German cinemas never heard of paying by card, I was forced to chose between the two. I ordered a gigantic Pepsi Max, but got normal Pepsi, a woman’s (and overweighed person’s) biggest nightmare. Then Kim ordered a small popcorn, but the vendor advised her to take a large one, since that was cheaper in combination with my huge drink. So it went.

We were just in time to catch the wonderful advertisings on the big screen. Since the movie was in English (for tourists), I’d expected that everything would be in that language. I was wrong. Somehow the Germans always succeed to keep some kind of nationalism in every situation, even at the movies. The advertisement was in –oh yes- German. I almost killed myself.

All in all it was a great experience. Paying twenty Euros for a Pepsi I didn’t order and a fantastic movie. But now I imagine what else I could have done with the money. Think I’ll just keep on dreaming.

See you on Wednesday, folks! Then I’ll write about the German television!

Germans and sneaky tactics

The German pride… Could it be Wurst, Sauerkraut, Beer? No! It’s the wonderful atmosphere at the Christmas markets! Glühwein (warm wine with added sugar), Kuchen (dough speciality in the form of a heart), and an enormous amount of sausages. Combine these delicacies with the presence of some friends and you’ll have the best time of your life! Also for young children there are a lot of activities… even in this town no one else but football fans ever heard of.

But as usual the entertainment isn’t for free. Make sure you’ll bring some bags of gold and expensive watches to trqde them for Glühwein (€3 + €3 Pfand), Bratwurst (€3) and Kuchen (€3 - €25). “You can also sell your children in Belgium, which is only fifty kilometres away”. A classic German joke about their neighbours, but maybe a solution for the overwhelming prices. At least you don’t have to spend money on the Ferris wheel then… and you can talk with your friends without being interrupted by that little bastard.

 

So according to me the best way to experience a real German Christmas market is the following:

1. Get rid of your kids in Belgium or Thailand. Maybe the last one is too far away…
2. Go to a bar first to meet friends. Making friends is also an opportunity. Just go to the toilet and wait five seconds. Le wild German will appear and he’s willing to talk to you.
3. Buy a Santa hat. In the euro shop they’re only €1 and they lighten up!
4. Walk like a German and pretend you’re semi-drunk. Otherwise you’re not part of the ‘gangsta-gangsta’ group.
5. Drink Glühwein. You’ll have to go to the toilet very soon and making friends will even be easier!
6. Repeat ‘till laying in the gutter.

And men, don’t forget to inform your wife about the ‘horrible mistake’ you made by selling your ‘wonderful’ son or daughter. Maybe find a better excuse. She will go to look after him and the house will be yours for approximately three days! Enough time to throw a big ass party… German style.

 

See you again on Sunday!