Back To School - Again

But not without a fight. No, not like me refusing to get out of my nice, warm bed and Thomas pulling the sheets off me while yelling, "We paid for this and you are going," (although that may or may not have happened on occasion). More like me having to defend my right to pursue further education. Who woulda' thunk?

Having taken five months off from school (yikes, has it really been that long?) I decided to continue German language classes at the Volkshochschule (adult education school). You have to register in person for anything beyond entry level classes so I headed out last week to register. I had printed out the paper with the exact information for the course I was interested in and also brought along the official certifate stating that I had passed my B1 level exam.

First stop lower level where I confirm that there are still openings for the class. Second stop, upper level where I have to complete the registration paperwork so that I once again can return to the first level to pay. All manageable. Or so I thought.

I hand the registration Frau the paper with the B2 course information and tell her I'd like to enroll and then I produce my B1 certificate. The woman starts shaking her head and tells me that "I can't enroll for the class because it is a B2 level and I am only at the B1 level. "I have completed the B1 level," I say as I point to my certificate. She tells me the certificate shows that I have made it TO the B1 level and I say (politely), "No, the certificate states that I have made it THROUGH the B1 level." I tell her that a friend of mine, with the exact same class experience has already signed up for this class. She remains unconvinced and says she has to check with a colleague and so gets up to call the presumed German Oz. After some discussion on the phone she comes back and says NOT "I'm sorry, you were right." BUT "I think you would still be better off in a B1 level course. I think this course will be too hard for you." Huh?

I'm thinking, I've said all of 20 words and I'm fairly certain I said them correctly since I rehearsed them, oh, approximately 800 times on the train ride into the city. What gives? I mean, I know I didn't wear a business suit or anything but it's not like I had on my stupid hat either. What's a stupid hat? This is a stupid hat - favored by Bavarians during festivals such Oktoberfest.

People who wear this hat are prone to doing stupid things like drinking out of it or even worse....

So, back on point.  I want to pay to voluntarily learn the language of a people who wear hats like this and I am being rebuffed?  By an adult education class? Would I have gotten farther with, "Guten Tag, I'd like to sign up for the Building a Better Bonsai class."? What's that, you say? You think this class may be too EASY for me and I should really consider Cement Chemical Composition: Creating a More Concrete Future? Thank you soooo much for realizing my potential.

At this point, She Who Cannot Admit Wrong launches into this whole spiel (which by the way is a German word from das Spiel (game) used in the colloquial sense as in "to blather") about how everyone always wants to be in the higher level and it's not fair to the teacher and the other students.  I tell her I did well in my other classes and I have no doubt I can manage this class. She waves her hands and says, "Oh, everybody always says that but the reality is very different."  She tells me there is a lot of difficult grammar and a lot of vocabulary in this level and I would really be so much better off reviewing the B1 level. I tell her I would rather have it be too hard than too easy.  She's not budging.  She says it is better to review than to be overwhelmed.  I say I have all day to study.  And on and on and on.  Seriously, do you think I want to learn your language so badly that I'm going to don my dirndl and jump into a quark-filled boxing ring to wrestle it out with you? Quite frankly, I'd rather wear one of those stupid hats. 
 
After ten minutes of back and forth during which my German skills plummeted to 3 year-old child tantrum level, I finally said, "Is there no way I can sign up for this class?" And she said, "I strongly advise you against it. I think you will be very unhappy and you will want to quit." Which is basically all I needed to hear cuz just tell me "no" in any language (Swahili, for example, "hapana") and watch me roll.

ME: But when you still have places free, which you do, and I want to sign up for this EXACT class, which I do, you cannot tell me NEIN, oder?
SWCAW: Stare that borders on a glare.  Shuffles papers.  Shrug shoulders.
ME: Also, gut. Then I would like to sign up for this class. Today. Now.

To conclude: she is not my new bestest friend ever.  School starts on Tuesday.

To update: day one down and I can tell you right from the git go, I ain't the dumbest muffin in class. And She Who Cannot Admit Wrong really needn't have worried about my quitting. I guarantee you I'll die of boredom first.

Dinner at ???

We had friends for dinner last night and I had sort of a Hausfrau breakthrough.  Typically, as our guests are pushing the buzzer at exactly 7:00 (yes, the stereotype is true, Germans are exceptionally prompt) I am in full hysteria mode. Half-dressed, flour strewn across counter tops, glob of butter affixed to my nose, second degree burns on right hand from forgetting to use hot pad when pulling casserole dish out of the oven while simultaneously trying to dress a salad with a homemade vinaigrette reduction.

Not this time.  I was on it. On. It

The Menu

Appetizer: Antipasto and Aperol Spritzs
Main Course: Lasagna, garlic bread, arugula salad with shaved Parmesan
Dessert: Strawberry shortcake with fresh whipped creme

The Timing

Guests due to arrive at 7:30.   At 6:25 the lasagna elements are complete and ready for assembly and insertion into the oven at 7:00.  Strawberries hulled, macerated and refrigerated. Salad prepared with dressing laying in wait.  Garlic bread seasoned and wrapped in foil.  Antipasto assortment prepared and ready for plating at 7:25. Me? Showered and dressed.  The only thing left to do?  Make the shortbread a quick 15 minute venture that I plan to kick out after sticking the lasagna in the oven.  Leaving a whopping 15 minutes to run a comb through my locks and apply lip gloss. Kiss. Kiss. The long and short of it?  I had a whole half hour to spare.  I am rocking this Hausfrau thing. Rocking. It.

So, I decided to check email with the free time.  As I sit down at my computer my husband says to me:

TK: What are you doing?
ME: Checking my email.
TK: Now? They're going to be here any minute.
ME: Nuh uh. It's only six-thirty.
TK: Yeah, they're coming at six-thirty.
ME: (controlled hysteria) But you told me they were coming at seven-thirty.
TK: I did?
ME: Yes, you DID.
TK: I said, "halb sieben."
ME: NOOOO, you said seven-thirty!

Brief Language Instruction Interlude

Telling time in German is a bit different than telling time in English.
In English, we say seven-thirty meaning half AFTER seven. 7:30
In German, they say halb sieben meaning half BEFORE seven. 6:30

Back to our previulsy scheduled programing

ME: NOOOO, YOU SAID SEVEN-THIRTY!!!!! (now in full-blown hysteria)
TK: I said seven-thirty? I meant halb sieben.
ME: Which is 6:30 which is NOOOOWWWW!!!!
TK: Can I do something to help?

I was not pleased.  Really. Not. Pleased. Fortunately, we have the coolest friends in the world so when the buzzer sounded at halb sieben/six-thirty we mixed a drink and they joined us in the kitchen. It was a great night with good friends.

But I was still really peeved with TK.  Bordering on pissed. Or, as we say in German "stinksauer"  pronounced stink sour (a new favorite word). No, not because he screwed up the time.  It goes much deeper than that.  You see, since moving to Germany I've been somewhat off-kilter.  I couldn't seem to find my niche.  I don't work.  I don't have offspring. I didn't have friends for a long time.  I gave the Hausfrau thing a good go but I don't think I'll ever make it to German standards.  The idea of someone randomly ringing my bell for an impromptu Kaffee and Kuchen paralyzes me with fear.  Proper Hausfraus are always prepared for company.  There is always a fresh pastry in a tidy breadbox. A good Hausfrau's home is always spotless.  That is their job.  They take it seriously. They sweep the stoop and the driveway. Every. Day.  They wash the kitchen floor. Every. Day. 

My idea of doing the laundry every day goes something like this. Monday - wash laundry. Remove from dryer. Throw dry laundry on living room couch. Tuesday - fold laundry and place on coffee table five minutes before TK gets home from work so that I appear to have had a productive day. Wednesday - move folded laundry to bed.  This is preceded by my making the bed.  I make the bed. Every. Wednesday. Wednesday night. Move the folded laundry off the bed to the chest beside the bed. Thursday - put laundry away. In. Drawers. And. Shit. Friday - rest.  Whew.  So it's not like I'd found my niche with the whole Hausfrau thing either.

But there was one area in which I excelled.  One challenge which I could master in every situation. One talent which I truly considered my niche.  Language Idiot.  I am the one who can not form simple sentences. I am the one who who stares blankly into German faces when asked anything beyond "what is your name?" I am the one who has to count on my fingers when told the movie starts at 20:00. Me. Me. ME! I am the language idiot. Not you, my dear bi-lingual husband.  You are messing with my niche and that is just so... Not. Cool.

Deutsch Zertifikat für Zuwanderer. Fertig!

German Certificate for Foreigners. Done!

I took my big German test today. Big sigh of relief. I'm sure I passed but I have to wait three weeks for the official results. This basically means I have achieved a B1 level in German. I think that equates to about fifth grade by our standards but considering that I started at a Kindergarten level, I've come pretty far in six months. Not far enough to actually have a full on conversation in German mind you. But getting there. Not good enough to understand 100% of what is being said around me but I think I'm at the 60% range depending on the topic.

I still panic whenever I have to speak to someone. I rehearse even the most simple request endlessly. Having to go to the bank to ask for a roll of Euros so I can do the wash is akin to asking a boss for a raise. It's that bad. And forget it when someone speaks to me out of the blue which, for some reason, happens to me a lot. I'll be standing waiting for the train, or in line at the supermarket and someone will just start talking to me. I immediately panic. Eyes widen in fear. Stomach drops. I smile. Give an awkward chuckle while searching for ONE word that I understand. Then I usually pretend to drop something and have to busy myself with that because I have NO CLUE what is happening.

The other day I was in the supermarket in the baking section and some guy came up to me and asked me something. An awkward pause ensued while I look around praying that he was talking to someone else; no such luck. I take a deep breath. Wie bitte? Wissen Sie, wo das Salz ist? Salt! Salt! I know that word. And not only do I know that word. I know where the salt is! So I said, auf Deutsch, the salt is next to the Butcher counter. However, judging from the way he looked at me, I think what I really said was "the salt is on top of the meat." Whatever, he got that it was in the area of the meat. Welcome to my world where I have to rely on one word and a mixture of trial and error to navigate through so many situations. The man reappeared a few minutes later waving the salt happily so it all worked out in the end. Does that count as an actual conversation? Maybe I exaggerate the fifth grade level thing. Maybe we're really talking first-grader peeking out from behind her Momma's skirt level. But I take comfort that I am not as bad as some. Take, for example, my partner for the spoken portion of the German exam.

The DZZ test consists of four parts: listening, reading, writing and speaking. Each section is about an hour in duration except for the spoken which is shorter. Typically, you can select your own speaking partner from someone in your current class. I was originally scheduled to take the test in November but had to fly to the states at the last minute because of my Mom. So, being that I was not actively enrolled in a class, I was assigned a partner. Now, someone could be partner-less because of a situation like mine or they could be partner-less because no one in their current class wants to partner with them. I got a piece of paper with a name. Female. Russian sounding.

First up - listening. You get to hear each recorded bit once and then have to answer a question on the content. No major problems except the idiot who kept asking the teacher to replay the piece because he couldn't "hear" it aka didn't understand it. On to reading comprehension. When the time was up for the reading portion of the test, the teacher went from desk to desk collecting the papers. A few people hadn't finished but reluctantly gave up their answer sheets. Except for one women. She pulled the paper back when the teacher tried to take it. He tried to take it again. She pulled it back saying "Nein, nein." He explained that it had to be fair for everyone. She shooed him off to the other people in her row. He collected their papers. He came back for hers. She wouldn't give it up. At that point, I knew, just knew, that she was my partner. And she was.

The speaking portion consists of three parts. First, you have to introduce yourself, where you are from, where you live, family, why you are in Germany and so on. Second, you have to describe a picture that they show you. Third, you and your partner have to have a conversation on a given topic.

Introductions aside. Fairly basic. Svetlana, my partner, now has to describe the picture the teacher is holding up in front of her. It is a picture of a little boy with a bowl of apples in front of him. Their condensed conversation goes something like this:

Teacher: What do you see?
Svetlana: A boy at a table. And an apple.
T: What else?
S: Two apples.

T: Can you say anything else about the picture?

Hemming, hawing. The teacher tries another tactic.

T: What kind of fruit do you like to eat?

S: Apples.

T: Anything else?

S: Vegetables.

T: Let's say you are going to the store tonight. What kind of fruit or vegetables will you buy?

Now at this point I am screaming inside my head Bananen, Orangen! Good God please anything but...

S: Apples

So the teacher asks her if she thinks nutrition is important which is obviously the theme and she says...

S: Yes, very important.

And it goes on like that. Now it is my turn and the teacher holds up my picture to describe. It is a picture of a little girl sitting at a table with a bowl of fruit in front of her: grapes and APPLES!

There was no way I could avoid saying it. Although we did manage to move past apples and have a conversation about nutrition in schools. For our last bit we had to come up with a plan to help a co-worker who was sick: doctor recommendation, medicine, how to help at home, how to help at the office. I can't say it was pretty. Svetlana was by now a nervous wreck which was making me a nervous wreck so I was just babbling away trying to fill the dead air space with no regard for grammar, adjective endings, case and other such painful (yet important) things. All I can say it is is done. And the best part is that they refund you the 20 Euro you paid to reserve your spot which means you can get a bottle of Tequila on the way home and forget the whole thing.

Here is my recipe for the best-tasting, pain-eliminating, memory-reducing margarita ever.

1 part fresh squeezed lime juice

1 part silver tequila (or your preference)

1 part Grand Marnier

ice

Shake. Pour. Enjoy. Forget.

Welcome Home Honey

Thomas enters the door after a long, hard day at work and I greet him. No, not with cocktail in hand and freshly applied lipstick. With homework in hand and crazy hair held together in a pencil bun.

Me: This makes absolutely no sense. (Waving papers frantically.) Can you please explain to me why you go "IN the work" but you go "TO the supermarket?" Why do you live "IN Holzstrasse" and not "ON Holzstrasse?" And why for the love of all that is sacred do the genders have to change more often than Cher at a comeback concert?

Thomas: Hi.

Me: Do you know I spent two whole hours trying to figure out what the difference is between "I gave Peter the book" and "He gave it (the book) to me"?

Thomas: Are you going to hit me?

Me: Hit you? How can I possibly hit you? I'd never be able to conjugate the verb "hit" correctly so what would be the point?

Feel my pain - which verb form of HIT (schlagen) would YOU pick????

Indikativ Präsens	Indikativ Präteritum	Indikativ Futur I
ich schlage	ich schlug	ich werde schlagen
du schlägst	du schlugst	du wirst schlagen
er schlägt	er schlug	er wird schlagen
sie schlägt	sie schlug	sie wird schlagen
es schlägt	es schlug	es wird schlagen
wir schlagen	wir schlugen	wir werden schlagen
ihr schlagt	ihr schlugt	ihr werdet schlagen
sie schlagen	sie schlugen	sie werden schlagen

Indikativ Perfekt	Indikativ Plusquamperfekt	Indikativ Futur II
ich habe geschlagen	ich hatte geschlagen	ich werde geschlagen haben
du hast geschlagen	du hattest geschlagen	du wirst geschlagen haben
er hat geschlagen	er hatte geschlagen	er wird geschlagen haben
sie hat geschlagen	sie hatte geschlagen	sie wird geschlagen haben
es hat geschlagen	es hatte geschlagen	es wird geschlagen haben
wir haben geschlagen	wir hatten geschlagen	wir werden geschlagen haben
ihr habt geschlagen	ihr hattet geschlagen	ihr werdet geschlagen haben
sie haben geschlagen	sie hatten geschlagen	sie werden geschlagen haben

Konjunktiv I Präsens	Konjunktiv I Perfekt	Konjunktiv I Futur I
ich schlage	ich habe geschlagen	ich werde schlagen
du schlagest	du habest geschlagen	du werdest schlagen
er schlage	er habe geschlagen	er werde schlagen
sie schlage	sie habe geschlagen	sie werde schlagen
es schlage	es habe geschlagen	es werde schlagen
wir schlagen	wir haben geschlagen	wir werden schlagen
ihr schlaget	ihr habet geschlagen	ihr werdet schlagen
sie schlagen	sie haben geschlagen	sie werden schlagen

Konjunktiv II Präteritum	Konjunktiv II Plusquamperfekt	Konjunktiv II Futur I
ich schlüge	ich hätte geschlagen	ich würde schlagen
du schlügest	du hättest geschlagen	du würdest schlagen
er schlüge	er hätte geschlagen	er würde schlagen
sie schlüge	sie hätte geschlagen	sie würde schlagen
es schlüge	es hätte geschlagen	es würde schlagen
wir schlügen	wir hätten geschlagen	wir würden schlagen
ihr schlüget	ihr hättet geschlagen	ihr würdet schlagen
sie schlügen	sie hätten geschlagen	sie würden schlagen

Konjunktiv I Futur II	Konjunktiv II Futur II	Partizip & Imperativ
ich werde geschlagen haben	ich würde geschlagen haben	schlagend
du werdest geschlagen haben	du würdest geschlagen haben	geschlagen
er werde geschlagen haben	er würde geschlagen haben	schlage, schlag
sie werde geschlagen haben	sie würde geschlagen haben	schlagen wir
es werde geschlagen haben	es würde geschlagen haben	schlagt
wir werden geschlagen haben	wir würden geschlagen haben	schlagen Sie
ihr werdet geschlagen haben	ihr würdet geschlagen haben
sie werden geschlagen haben	sie würden geschlagen haben

Get my point? I did however manage to learn the word for gun cuz' momma' has a feeling she's going to be needing one real soon. Just in case you are curious, it is die Waffe or die Pistole. Both feminine nouns. Interesting that.

Day Zwei

Okay. I have sorted this out. The reason that I couldn't understand anything yesterday is that in my class of 18 people, there are 16 different countries represented. Each with their unique way of pronouncing German. I had not had time to acclimate myself to the individual accents. Now I am starting to figure it out. The woman from Columbia runs every word together without pause. The girl from Spain can't make the "sch" sound. I can't make the "cht" sound. And so on, and so on, and so on. It's a comedy of vocal errors.

I sit next to a girl from China who is a super-smart, classic over-achiever. She's completed the vocabulary worksheets for the entire class the first night. That's approximately 500 words, folks. I did only the requisite 25. She understands grammar. She studies grammer - oops there I go again - grammar. But god love her, I can't understand a thing she says. She has a hard time with "r's" and adds a vowel at the end of every word. This is not good as we are always together for partner exercises. It goes something like this...

China- DasE istE einE HotES Fahhat.
Me - Wie bitte?
China - DASE istE einE HOTES FahhAT.
Me - Noch einmal, bitte?
China (with frustrated hand-waving) - DASE ISTE EINE HOTES FAHHHHAT. FAHHHHAT!
We move on to pictures and pointing.
Alexia - Ohhhh! Das ist ein rotes Fahrrad (that is a red bike)??
China - Ja! Ja! Das habe ich gesagt (that's what I said).

And it goes on like that for most of the class. The girl from France can barely understand the guy from Iraq. The girl from India plays the same call and repeat game with the woman from Russia and the teacher tries to remain patient as she corrects us all. We are a speech pathologist's nightmare.

Okay, I have to go finish my homework. Yeah, that's what I said. Homework. People over 40 should never have to utter the word homework unless it is to one of their children followed by useless threats. Homework does not get easier with age. Homework STILL sucks.

Lunchbox Packed

Today was my first day of German school. Four hours a day. Five days a week. My head hurts. I am old. I have not kept my brain oiled with Sudoku and such. Instead, I have petrified my brain with InTouch Weekly and such.

I do not understand English grammar. I do not even know how to spell grammar (thank god for spell check). How I ask, how??? am I to understand the difference between the Accusative case and the Dative case? And why, I ask why??? does every German verb have 50 different variables? Why do nouns have to be masculine, feminine and neuter? Why can't they just BE? Haven't we, as civilized humans, moved beyond that need to slot everything into a neat little category? And how can a Bikini possibly be a masculine noun while a tie "die Krawatte" is a feminine noun? Unless, that is, you refer to a tie as der Schlips and then we're right back on the masculine track. If you love me, you will send me Advil. Lots and lots of Advil.

I did the first level of the class at home via a self-study program. I had Nutella nearby in case I needed to kick-start my brain, I had warm slippers and hot tea, and the best part - nobody EVER called on me. That, my friends, has changed. Most of the people in the class took the first level together so they've already spent two months together. I am the new girl. So while they were busy chatting (in German) about their weekend, I was busy trying to cherry-pick out words that I know like "das Wochenende." Yup, I know, even a moron could figure that one out. I believe I am one step beyond Moron level. I'm not quite sure what that translates to on the Goethe Institute scale but I see an aspirin addiction in my future.