Always a Delight to Get Mail - Teil 3

"Heads up, you may have a random package arriving tomorrow or Friday."

That was the message I found when I looked at my mobile late Wednesday night about a week ago.

Cool.

Like everyone, I enjoy receiving something through the regular post from someone other than the Amazon delivery guy.  Personal letters are few and far between these days, and more often than not, are sent via email, if not shortened to a quick text or whatever.  We know this, so all the more reason to get excited about a package.

The following afternoon I ran into my neighbor who was also looking for a package that she had ordered.  "I am going to receive a package, too!" I exclaimed with probably a little too much enthusiasm, considering I had no idea what was on the way to me.

By Saturday afternoon, I realized that the package was still in transit, so made a mental note to let Chris know at some point early in the upcoming week.  We ended up trading a few messages about a few other topics, but at one point I found out that the package was still in transit and that the carrier had requested my contact telephone number. 

So, I wasn't too surprised on  Tuesday morning when the girl phoned from DHL.  She was from the customs office and wanted to find out who was going to cover the customs tax and duties.   As the recipient, that pretty much was going to rest with me.  "What's in the package?" the girl asked me.  "Is it a gift of something?"

"Yeah, I assume it is some sort of gift," I responded, and explained that I was at least aware of the package, though not so clear on the contents. 

She then proceeded to let me know that I would need to confirm the statement in writing, and asked for my email address so she could send me the little form to fill out and return.

Now, I really don't like having to spell my name over the telephone or for that matter, in person.  I think part of this is due to the difference in the ways that vowels get pronounced.  For example, in American English we would say:

a ( like when the Fonz says "ayyy!")

e (like what you say when sliding down a slide, only without the w)

i (like "eye")

o (like "oh")

u (like "you")

and sometimes

y (like "why")

In German, the pronunciation is not quite the same:

a (like when you say "ah, now i understand.")

e ( like when the Fonz says "ayyy!")

i (like what you say when sliding down a slide, only without the w)

o (like "oh")

u (like "oooh, that's gross.")

and sometimes

y (like "oops salon")

Learning how to say the vowels is not all that difficult, and is simply a part of language learning.  However, what I have experienced over the years in both Spanish and German, is that when it comes to comprehension, things can be a little tricky, especially if you are conversing in a certain language where one of you is NOT a native speaker.  It is very easy to listen to someone say a vowel out loud in German, and immediately write down the English letter that corresponds with it, since the brain sometimes goes into autopilot in cases like this. 

Consider briefly if someone calls out to you the letters for wine in the German language.

While the German is saying "w-e-i-n,"  what one English native might hear (and then write down) is "W - A - E - N"
Actually, since the letter W has a completely different sound (more on that in a minute), one might actually write: "V - A - E - N."  Neither "waen" nor "vaen" means anything; they aren't words in English or German.

OK, maybe that was an extreme example, but I truly believe that others experience similar difficulties.  Maybe not all the time, but there is still that chance. 

Additionally, I never learned the NATO phonetic alphabet, preferring instead to use my own words.  While this grants me a certain amount of creativity, I do lose points for lack of consistency.  Furthermore, when trying to use the phonetic alphabet in German, due to the difference in consonants, things can also be very challenging. 

So, I carefully started spelling my email address to the DHL woman, and I was pleased that she was following without any problems.  Obviously she has some considerable experience with this, as once or twice she did start to confirm my spelling with the NATO alphabet.  When we got to the last letter of my last name, we both sort of hesitated.  On one hand, she already had picked up on the fact that my email address included my last name, which she had listed as he recipient of the package.  On the other hand, I think she wanted to hear how I was going to say the W, since in German this letter gets pronounced like an English "V."

After a moment's hesitation as I tried quickly to think of a word starting with the letter W, I finally uttered "walrus," which I immediately felt a little sheepish.  However, she came back with, "Genau!" and confirmed that she had understood.  I kind of felt like she was cheering for me.  Coo coo cachoo. 

We finished our phone call, and a few minutes later, I received the little form, which required that I tick the correct box to declare the goods.  I was a bit confused, and started to get a little nervous, because these things have a way of getting completely out hand very quickly.   I looked at the pdf file of the contents of the package that had been given when it was shipped from the US, but the words "personal effects" can vary from person to person.  I figured I might know what personal books were being referred to, but "office supplies" was also a bit cryptic. 

I consulted briefly with a friend of mine who runs a little mail-order shop, and he told me how best to complete the form.  I signed and scanned the document, then emailed back to DHL and hoped that they would not send all my stuff to the local customs office.  If that were to happen, then I might end up having to pay some expensive fees.  Several years ago when I ordered some shoes and boots, I ended up having to spend an extra 40% to clear the goods through customs.  I was eager to avoid a similar situation this time round.  I did not want to have to get forced to pay a lot of duties on things that already belong to me. 

Well, the doorbell rang during the rainy morning on Thursday, and a soggy DHL driver came upstairs with a medium sized box in his hands.  He confirmed my name, and then asked me for 32 Euro.  I had sort of expected this, and handed over the money, relieved that the amount of the duties was not too much. He gave me the package, and I opened the box curiously, truly still wondering what personal effects of mine might have come from the US. 

With great delight, I realized that the package contained several of my journals, stories, and various other monologues that I had written during college and throughout the 90s.  I didn't believe that I had lost them, but let's just say I wasn't so sure where they were.  The other bits were also nice:  expired documents, a couple of old concert fliers, and a few other various bits that I had kept through the years.  The total value of the goods could not have exceeded more than 20 bucks, but the value of those journals?   For me, it is an absolute treasure.  Thanks, Chris.

In all likelihood, in the coming weeks and months, I will post a couple of the old "stories" from long ago, which will certainly give a glimpse into the life of Bryan prior to the launch of this blog back in 2006. 

Yep, I have posted two times this week, but for very good reasons.  What a way to start the weekend.

see you out there
bryan

Processing Belief

I think I am going to stop saying things like, "Gosh, the morning headlines are really depressing right now," as each day seems to get more and more distressing for the world.  It is one event after another, from attacks on German trains, to more police shootings, and the list goes on. 

Last evening a friend of mine summed things up quite well simply by saying, "The world is shit right now."

We were discussing our views on various topics, from terrorism, to politics, to immigration, and my friend was particularly concerned, as his son will be 1 year old in another week.  Obviously he is worried about the future of his child.  All of us at the table agreed that we are struggling to believe all of the things that seem to be happening in the world right now, and we keep asking a lot of questions about how to help resolve these issues. 

True, I have tossed and turned during several recent nights, and haven't been able to get as much rest as I would like, simply because there is too much on my mind.  As much as I think about stuff and as much time as I spend thinking about stuff, I still don't really meditate.  I usually describe myself as somewhat pensive, but that would be another blog post entirely.  For relaxing my mind, I find going to a rock show pretty much does the trick. 

A few days back, a friend sent me a text asking if I wanted to go to the Bad Religion show. 

Of course. 

I hadn't seen the band before, and while I followed them during the 90s, I really got hooked on them again with their album, "Process of Belief."  My friend with the extra ticket is about the same age as me, and I assumed most of the concert attendees would be above the age of 35.  Part of this assumption was confirmed during my quick current event discussion last evening:  two of people in the conversation were under 35, and neither of them was familiar with this American punk band.  Then, a buddy of mine showed up (he is 3 years younger than me), and as soon as I told him where I was about to go, he jumped up and down and said, "hey, I think I will try to get down there a bit later....i love that band."

At any rate, I left my friends to continue their discussions about the world, and I headed off to the U-Bahn to make my way to the concert.  Despite the detour I had to take due to one of the lines not operating, I made it to the venue, found my friend, got a beer, and within a few minutes, the opening act came on stage.

And that is all I will say about the opening act.

During the set change, I looked around at the other folks.  True, most were in my age group, which was just fine; it is always nice to see people enjoying themselves at any age.  We may not be Pogo-ing around quite like we did 20 years ago, but we are still there (although most of us were also thinking a small bit about making sure we made it on time to work the next day).

There is nothing better than seeing a band enjoy themselves on stage.  Bad Religion were just touring, they weren't promoting any new album, and they seemed like they were on their summer holidays.   They played with enthusiasm and energy, and it just made for a really pleasant evening.  A perfect way to take my mind off of troubling things...

Halfway through the set, my friend turned to me and said, "you know, we should be coming up to this club all the time."

I had been thinking the exact same thing.   My last concert was almost 2 years ago, and that is approaching "disgraceful."  However, I have realized that many of us are not going to concerts with the same frequency as years before, and that is due mainly to the logical progressions in our lives:  starting families, raising children, careers, etc.   But, I also recognize that there are fewer and fewer concerts that I want to see.  Opening act from last evening?  Forgettable.  If that is the musical future for us, then we are going to suffer. 

OK, there are not that many bands that have toured for the past 30 years, and furthermore, some of those bands that have toured that long have not done it all that gracefully.  Bad Religion are an exception, and like all good shows, it was a night out with a lot of friends.  Everyone enjoyed themselves, including the younger fans (who are really in their early 30s) and it was very comforting to stand in the crowd singing all the songs.  The band are known for their harmonies, and it was quite cool (albeit unsurprising) that the fans would also sing in harmony. 

Alas, the set came to an end.  The band played a couple of encores, and then the lights came up, bringing us back down to earth.  I was saying good-bye to my friend when I ran into the girlfriend of another friend of mine.  So, I chatted a bit more with her and a few of her friends as we finished up our beers.  She represented the younger set of fans and was equally glad that she came to the concert.  She works at a few pubs around Frankfurt while she finishes her degree.  We spoke a little about looking forward to the upcoming block party next month, where she would be serving beers outside the little rockabilly shop outside of my flat.  As the cups were emptied, we headed to the U-Bahn, travelled back into city, and then as we said our good-byes, we all agreed that it had been a great evening and a great show.

Yeah, maybe the world is shit right now.  We certainly have some problems.  But experiences like a good concert, drinking beer and chatting with friends?  They help remind us that we deserve happy thoughts and lives.

It is something to believe in.

see you out there
bryan

What Next?

My morning routine is pretty basic.   Once I am out of bed, I tend to turn on the computer and start making the first coffee of the day.   As soon as the coffee is ready, I sit down and scan the morning headlines in both English and German.  The last few weeks have made for particularly distressing reading, and I was already becoming increasingly dismayed with the state of affairs in the world, particularly in relation to violence involving police officers in the US.

Last Friday morning, I had the upsetting experience of seeing my hometown all over the headlines, due to the attack on the Dallas police officers.  Emotionally distraught, I burst into tears as I read through the articles detailing the events.

Despite feeling really  down through the remainder of the day, I met up with some friends for dinner at a local restaurant, and afterwards stopped briefly by a party at a little shop next to my flat that was celebrating 10 years.  There, I saw a handful of some of my German friends, but unfortunately, someone unintentionally made a remark about the recent events in Dallas and it caught me at the wrong time.  In fairness, these friends are all open and respectful, but the events hit a little too close to home.

I quietly moved on to the pub across the street, intending to have a beer and then maybe return to the party, but I ended up chatting with a couple of other friends.  We spoke about the victims over the past weeks, the sadness we felt for the circumstances, the victims, and for the survivors.  We spoke of our concerns over the lack of solutions that were needed in order to help us avoid a continued tailspin.   Pretty depressing conversation topics, true, but it felt ok to open up to a couple of folks about it. 

The weekend itself was pretty somber, at least for me.  I stayed at home in a funk on Saturday, but late in the afternoon ventured out for a little sunshine, saw an old friend, chatted with a new friend, and laughed as I watched the very young daughter of some friends of mine do her little bits of cuteness. 

Frankfurt temperatures were pretty warm on Sunday, so I spent the late afternoon again enjoying the sunshine on the terrace of the local pub.  Though the victims from Dallas were still in my thoughts and prayers, I enjoyed watching all the young families go about their Sunday afternoons.  There was some sort of school party earlier in the day, and as a result, there were more children outside as compared to other weekends.  I thought of them as they played in the school yard across the street, and wondered if they were aware of the horrible events and problems that are facing the states right now.   Hopefully not.  However, I did hope that their parents were teaching them love, respect, and not to have fear, but instead be cautious.

I was standing around a little table top barrel with a few guys, including an Italian neighbor who just acquired a 3 month old kitten.  I am not really a cat guy, but this little cat was very subdued, a little curious, and happens to be very exotically striped.  Just about EVERYONE who strolled by stopped to take a look at the cat.  A family came by with two small children, who clearly wanted to pet the cat.  The mom gently encouraged them to ask my buddy.  My buddy, however, speaks no German, so sort of looked at them blankly instead of responding, "Sure, you can pet the cat." 

I did a quick translation, and in seconds the children were gently stroking the cat, who really seemed to enjoy the attention.  A few minutes later, the family moved on, and my buddy's cat, who was on a leash, decided to investigate the surroundings, including the inside of the pub.  So, my buddy and his cat left the table for a few minutes, then came back outside, where another family happened to pass by.

Re-read the last paragraph, and that pretty much happened two more times over the next 15 minutes.  Finally, my buddy said that it was time to take the kitten home to his flat, which is almost as close to the pub as mine.

During his brief absence, a little girl returned from playing in the playground across the street and asked her mother where the cat was.  She was looking under the tables, and seemed a bit sad that the cat was not around.  Just then, the Italian guy arrived back, and I mentioned what was going on.   Five seconds later, the mother of the child came up and asked about the cat.  Not surprisingly, she asked the question in German, but, as I was standing right there, I responded in English (I had already heard her speaking in English to her daughter) that the guy didn't understand German.

However, once the woman asked the question again in English, he offered to take them to see the cat at his flat around the corner.  So, they all headed off for a few minutes.

I was struck by the simplicity and the politeness of the events. It was nice to see pleasant people treating others with respect, regardless of nationality or age.  There have been far too many random acts of violence in recent weeks, and I needed to see these random acts of kindness, however small.  I still truly believe that most of humanity does prefer acts of love and kindness as opposed to acts of hate and fear.   

Last evening, I had a chance to skype with my grandmother, who told me how devastated the citizens of Dallas were feeling.  She went on to say something that was certainly not new to me, but I needed to hear it again. 

"I have never hated someone, but I have hated what someone has done." 

I was taught never to hate anyone, and that is the way I have always lived my life.  The distress, the dismay that I felt last Friday morning was not just about my home town, but because I was asking the question again, "how can someone feel so much hatred that they want to go out and do something like that, simply with the intent to harm others?" 

As my grandmother went on to say last evening, "I wish I was smart to have the answers to that question."

Me, too.

keep the faith
bryan

Domestic Urban Security - the Joys of House Keys and Doorbells

Last Friday night when my house key broke off in the lock of the door, I thought to myself, "Can this really be the second time that this happened to me?"

I am not sure what the average failure rate on keys should be, and likely it is very low, but the number of those incidents which has been inconvenient?  I imagine that number to be quite high.  My two experiences certainly didn't come at opportune times. 

Some 20 odd years ago, I got home to my parents house one night after being out with some friends, and when I put my key in the backdoor and turned, I felt the key sort of snap off, and I pulled out the useless part, leaving the business end inside of the lock.  Door still closed.  Neat.

Of course, my parents were out of town (I think was house-sitting or home for summer break or something), but I had not remembered which neighbors (if any) held a second set of keys to the house.  Because of the rather late hour, I was not about to wake up ALL of the neighbors to try and find the replacement keys.  Unfortunately, the only other option was to call my grandmother, hope that she answered the phone, and then drive to her house and pick up her set of keys to the house. 

That meant I had to drive to the nearest payphone (note - that sentence you will NEVER hear in Europe, unless it is someone telling a story) so I could call my grandmother.   Again, the lateness of the hour was not very convenient, but I was glad that my grandmother is a light sleeper.   She answered the phone cautiously, and I quickly explained my predicament, then drove across town to her house, picked up the key, returned home, and went to sleep.

It really wasn't that big of a deal, but for what it's worth, I kept that little part of the broken key that attaches to the key chain. 

The second this happened, it was still late on a Friday night, but through a stroke of luck, the key broke off AFTER the house door had opened, and furthermore, the key was no longer in the lock.  This enabled me to safely enter my house and go upstairs to enter my flat.  The flat itself has a different key, which is all well and good, but without the front door key to the house, you have no immediate way to enter the building.  More on that in a second.

Last Friday, my immediate need was to go sleep, and when I woke up Saturday morning with a rather fuzzy head, I didn't remember what had happened until I entered the kitchen and looked down at the broken key on my counter.  I took a photo of the broken key and sent it to my friend who has the second set of keys to my flat.  "Help!"

Well, it turns out that she was out of town, but since I look after her second set of keys, I had a way to go over and retrieve my spare set.   However, I was pretty sluggish on Saturday, so it took me most of the day to get myself in gear and ready to go over and pick up the key. 

The key point here, is that without this front door key, I was not able to get back into my building.  Even though I am acquainted with my neighbors, I cannot just ring the doorbell and expect for someone to buzz me in, especially late at night. 

I consider my neighborhood to be quite safe, but that being said, everyone typically has their own security
plan.  By security plan, I mean how one handles their personal safety.  For example, as children most of us were taught not to talk to strangers.  This was easy enough to do in suburban USA, but what about in the crowded weekly market in downtown Frankfurt?  Urban living is noticeably different.

Locking doors is a given.  I always lock my flat when departing home, and I usually make sure that the front door to the house as fully closed (it locks automatically) before I walk down the street.  However, as I mentioned, to gain access to the house, one either uses a key or the doorbell.

When the guys come to pick up the trash, they sort of hit all the doorbells at once, and a few seconds later, they are buzzed in as half the people in the house have just "buzzed" them in.   Usually the guys shout "trash guys," or something to that effect.   They tend to come at the same time, and when I have ever buzzed them in, I usually step out on my balcony to make sure that they are actually taking the trash out.

Likewise, the DHL and UPS drivers, when delivering their packages, ring the bell of the particular resident, but as we often realize, these drivers deliver during the day, which is precisely when no one is at home.  The drivers then start ringing ANY bell, in hopes that someone will answer.  That way, they can complete the delivery. Yours truly works home office, so am regularly signing for packages that come to my neighbors.  That is all part of the experience, and again, if I buzz someone into the apartment building, I tend to find out who they are, or what they want to do. I am not nosy, but I am cautious. 

That being said, because my little intercom doesn't work so well (it sounds like the teachers do from the Charlie Brown specials), I tend to buzz someone in, then open my door and check who they are.   The other day, it was a guy delivering flowers to my next door neighbor.  Last week, it was something from Amazon.
Only twice in the past decade have I opened the door to someone that I probably shouldn't have.
Once, thinking it was the trash guy, I buzzed someone in, only to have to get into a conversation with a Jehovah's Witnesses.   No disrespect intended, but that is really not my thing.

The other time this happened, it wasn't actually me who answered the door, nor was it really a big problem.
During my second year in Germany, I took private language lessons on Saturday evening in my flat.  One night, the doorbell rang at about 9pm, and I was prepared to ignore it, but my teacher wanted to see who it was.  As it were, I was learning vocabulary about kitchen items, including pots and pans and cutlery.  As I opened the door to see who was coming into the flat, I found a couple walking up the stairs carrying a bottle of wine and some flowers, presumably on their way to a dinner party.

What I didn't realize was that my teacher was standing behind holding one of the carving knives from my kitchen block.  The guy coming up the stairs sort of startled, then I realized what had his attention, and after a few brief awkward moments, we clarified that the new arrivals were at the right house number, but on the wrong street, which basically meant that they were not in the right house. My teacher explained how they could reach the correct street, but her credibility was blown because of the knife she was holding; the couple never took their eyes off of it.

As they departed and we resumed our German lesson, I asked my teacher if that was how she always answered the door, knife in hand.  She responded, "Well, you can't be too careful." 

Fair enough, but for me, I personally prefer a less threatening way of greeting someone. 

At any rate, I need to sign off and go get a replacement key made today, and also find a place for my second little broken key...a souvenir of another little experience.

see you out there, but leave the cutlery at home.

bryan