An American President in Dresden

Guess who's coming to Dresden next week?

That's right, our president is coming to visit us. Presumably, he'll be wearing a shirt. Though all bets are off on the suitcoat.

The city of Dresden appears to be quite stoked about the whole (rather baffling) situation, as evidenced by this photo on the city website of our mayor smiling with her TEETH!!!

The enthusiasm is also made evident by the site's "craft corner", which offers several high resolution print-offs that can be turned into little flags so that we can all greet the American president in the manner to which he's accustomed (thanks for the tip, Adrienne):

Reports say he won't be here on state business and won't be stopping by Berlin to shake hands with Angela Merkel (much to her party's chagrin in this election year). This article in Der Spiegel says it's a "personal trip", in part to visit the Buchenwald concentration camp, which is not far from here. The president's great-uncle served as an American infantryman in this area during World War II and took part in the liberation of one of Buchenwald's smaller satellite work camps.

Other reports say that the President also plans to visit locations in Dresden particularly significant to the 1945 firebombing of the city, including the Frauenkirche. Some suggest he may make a statement in Dresden "acknowledging German suffering in World War II", which has apparently infuriated some Americans, who feel that doing so would not only be an apology, but would also somehow validate Nazism. (Take your pick from the raging blogosphere here.)

I'm far from an expert on WWII or the bombing of this city, but I know enough to know that tens of thousands of people died that night in a truly horrifying fashion. I'm not going to say that it was right or wrong. War is hell, as the saying goes, and we certainly know that the German Luftwaffe took scores of lives in the exact same manner in Great Britain prior to the bombing of Dresden. Military strategy aside, however, I know that most of the people who died on Feb. 13, 1945, in Dresden were civilians, including women and children, and many were refugees. I don't know how many of those were Nazi sympathizers, but I do know they were all human. And I can acknowledge that they and their families suffered. I don't think doing so diminishes the crimes Nazi Germany committed or my own American patriotism.

If the rumors are true about the statement Obama will make here, I'm glad. I think it's a nice gesture, and a good reminder that our enemies, no matter who or where they are, are all human. And they suffer, too. Just like Americans.

Herzlich willkommen in Dresden, Mr. President. I hope you enjoy your stay.



JEM

Out, About

In no particular order, here are a bunch of photos taken by Jake and myself over the last month or so. They're all in Dresden and most are within walking distance of our apartment.






























I can't believe I live here.



JEM

Numbers

I thought my biggest number problem here would be that Germans express a lot of the numbers backwards. Here I'm not twenty-five years old, I'm five-and-twenty. But, as it turned out, there were all kinds of strange number situations that took getting used to. Case in point:

— Everywhere that decimals are used in numbers back home (fractions, prices, etc.), Germans use commas, and everywhere commas are used back home, Germans use decimals. For example, here the number 1,000 is shown as 1.000 and the number 1.5 million is 1,5 million. The price 5.99 is shown as 5,99. And the price $3,000.25 (are you ready for it?) would be expressed $3.000,25. Sorry for just BLOWING YOUR MIND.

— Germans use the 24-hour clock. So a meeting at 3 p.m. is at 15 o'clock instead. I just recently stopped requiring my fingers to determine the correct times for things. And I'm still pretty much baffled by time expressions. "Half-10" means 9:30, as in half-way to 10. And "three-quarters 10" means 9:45.

— When Americans write a date numerically, it always goes month/day/year. Here it's always day/month/year. (And they express it with decimals rather than dashes, which I think looks sharp. And single digits in the date are always expressed with a zero in front of them.) Also, on the topic of dates, Germans like to express them numerically verbally, as well as in writing, as in, "We'll meet on the tenth fifth (May 10)." And they'll express it like that even if it's in three days. I find I think in days of the week and they, more often than not, think in exact dates.

— In German many of the number words are similar, hundred is hundert, thousand is tausend, and million is million. But billion is milliard.

Hopefully we'll talk again soon. I'm thinking 15.05 at around 20 o'clock or maybe half-21, if that works for you.

JEM

My Life As an Alien

JEM in Nevada, 2006.

We had to visit the Foreigner Office last month for the millionth time since landing in Dresden, this time for visa renewals for Jake and me and a first-time visa for Jethro. I think the petite, poker-faced, bespectacled woman we always get is warming up to us the longer we're here. In the beginning it felt a little like she was trying to make our lives miserable. I think the lowest point was when she refused to accept our spartan Idaho marriage license because it didn't look official. (We had to write to the Idaho State government, and they had to write to the Foreigner Office vouching for our marital status.) But over the last almost 2 years, we've tried to maintain our civility with her. I think that, combined with watching my pregnant belly grow with each visit over the last year, and now seeing us with a baby on our laps as she stamps our forms, has softened her up a little. In fact, last week, as she was standing over the photocopier making copies of our expired visas, she actually smiled in response to a happy squeal from Jethro.

The alien experience is a humbling one. Being herded from bureaucracy to bureaucracy and having your existence reduced to documents and numbers can be a little dehumanizing, but I've also come to respect the system. I finally get why you can't just pitch a tent on any nation you want and decide to make it your home. I finally get that the way immigration is handled can make or break a country. Since coming to Germany, I've been acutely aware that I am a guest here. The German taxpayers are allowing me to use their public transit system and their health care programs and their clean and beautiful public spaces, and I feel a strong responsibility to be a good guest.

And part of that is learning their language. Even though most Germans have at least a little English, I've tried (as much as has been possible) to avoid making them use it. This is their country, and I should adapt to them. Not the other way around. I had a little bit of German when we got here, but I still couldn't understand a word of what people said to me or choke out a coherent sentence when pressed. Learning German has been one of the hardest things I've ever done in my life. It has involved countless hours of studying and listening and taking notes. And it has involved looking like an idiot almost daily. I'm sure I've used the phrases, "Langsamer, bitte!" ("Slower, please!") and "Noch einmal?" ("One more time?") thousands of times. I have regularly wanted to slam my head through a wall, and for the first few months I don't think a day went by that my anxiety over the language didn't bring me to tears. It is a painful experience to have your language — in my case, the thing I've devoted my life to studying and perfecting — be rendered meaningless.

But as the months passed, an incredible thing happened. I started understanding people, and I started to be able to express myself very simply. Today, my German is still very, very rough. I suspect I sound like a 2-year-old to Germans most of the time. A 2-year-old with a weird accent. And I still don't understand as much as I'd like to. I have to concentrate hard when I listen to people. I furrow my brow and squint and stare at their lips. But I'd say that most of the time I understand at least the gist of things, usually more than that. I can hold coherent conversations, follow instructions, ask questions. After about 6 months of pregnancy my OBGYN changed and from then on all my pre-natal checkups were in German, and I got by just fine. Jethro's doctor speaks only German, and we've had no problems so far. I'm an active visiting teacher, and, though it may seem like a small thing, a couple of months ago I bore my testimony in church for the first time without notes or a completely memorized routine — and I felt golden for the rest of the day.

I appreciate now, more than ever, how difficult it is to learn a language. But I've learned that, with effort and humility, it does come. And I feel more strongly than ever that a country's residents should speak — or at least be learning to speak — its language. When I think of the all the free services in the U.S. set up to help immigrants learn English, I ache with envy. After going through this here, I have no patience for people who live in the U.S. for years, even decades, and can't conduct a simple sales exchange in English. That being said, however, I also have zero patience for any American who mocks immigrants for their accents or their halted speech or who ever utters the words, "Learn English or go home!" without ever attempting to learn another language themselves.

We aliens shouldn't be coddled or patronized. If we are, the system won't work. But we do need the patience and kindness of the native citizens if we are ever expected to assimilate and grow. So thanks for the smile, glasses lady at the foreigner office. It means more than you realize.



JEM