April 2014

After 8 months, I am just beginning to come to terms with supressing my Englishness and embracing my Germanness, and can now:

1). Just about manage to begin a conversation without mentioning the weather.

2). Just about manage to have a conversation without mentioning the weather.

3). Just about manage to finish a conversation without mentioning the weather. *

*NB. I have, however, established that if England has a smell it is, without a shadow of a doubt, rain on concrete.

4). Stand in a non-orderly ''queue''. *

*NB. I haven't quite got the glare-at-the-back-of-the-heads-of-queue-jumpers-reflex under control yet, but will keep you updated on my progress.

5). Come to terms with the fact that speed, not small talk, is valued at checkouts.

6). Eat the last biscuit. Although this one is an on-going battle.

7). Introduce myself on the telephone (which should, apparently, be the first thing that you do; none of this ''hello, erm, I was potentially, maybe, wondering if there might theoretically be a possibility that you could perhaps answer a query that I may have'' business). I am still incapable of coming out with ''hello, my name is Salisbury'' whilst maintaining a completely straight face, and also distinctly miss being able to add as many adverbs as conceivably possible into one sentence, but my phone bills have not suffered as a result of this progress.

8). Introduce myself using my name. Shocking I know, but I do normally have the very British tendency to leave people to play the guessing game.*

* NB. I can actually only think of one occasion in England where I properly introduced myself (interviews and ice-breaker-related-activities excluded), and I was called Janet for the rest of the day. So, erm, yeah, it went well.

9). Introduce myself in general. Even if it involves hand shaking in a non-badminton-related-context. Just about (ie. whilst being simultaneously fairly limited by my British formality-related-awkwardness).

10). Half-function using a language which does not have a direct translation for the word ''awkward''.

11). Be barged into without feeling the need to apologise profusely for standing in the way. I admit, sometimes, the sorry reflex does  still just spring into automatic action, though.

12). Say ''great/ super/ [insert any positive adjective here]'' without meaning it ironically. Although I'm not entirely sure whether or not I've quite mastered the accompanying tone of voice yet.

13). Express my opinion in a format other than a strongly worded email. ie. to real life people. This is slow progress, and I've currently reached around the ''say-whether-I-want-Cola-or-Sprite-level''...

14). Supress the shopaholic inside of me who wants to do nothing but shop on Sundays. There is no shopping on Sundays, not in Germany.*

*NB. I don't really think I've ever been one to actually shop on Sundays, but I find the fact that there is one day a week where chocolate is not all too readily available rather scary.

15). Exit the house on a sunny day where the pollen-count is high without being stopped and interrogated as to why I am crying*. Although I feel hay fever epitomises all that is English within me, to my relief German eye-drops epitomise all that is German and efficient, and no more tears are required.

*N.B. Sadly, this is not a metaphor and happened on several occasions.

16). Parallel park. Luckily this was not a manoeuvre which cropped up on my driving test, otherwise I may not have been brumming around Deutschland since August. But, after realising that Frankfurt , astonishingly, is actually a city with traffic and cars, and that German directness is also represented in their willingness to honk, I have manned up and can just about deal with a 15m gap between cars.

17). Cope with the British lack of enthusiasm to acknowledge a fellow Brit in a foreign country. I WAS ONLY TRYING TO BE FRIENDLY, Londoners in caravan who were less than impressed by my hellos. I know society dictates that we have to ignore each other on public transport, but we were in the middle of a field. In Bayern. I was desperate.

18). Deal with car-park-barriers being on the wrong side. My mad-skills have now developed to the point where I have also experienced being too fast for the barrier. Aka. I have driven  directly into it in my climbing-out-of-and-back-into-the-car-frenzy.

19). Restrain my urge to put kisses on the end of texts. The Germans do not do this.

20). Go a day* without wearing a skirt, or a dress, or an item of floral-related clothing.

*N.B. By day, I mean the waking hours. I am far too British to not crawl back home and straight into flowery pyjamas.