German Indians

And I sit in my car. With open mouth.

Germany is not green.

It's red. And yellow.

It's orange. And gold.

Indian Summer has arrived in my new country.

And I love it.

Pictures made out of the car in Nord-Hessen, on a beautiful autumn day.

Blog Action Day - Don't let the wind mills trouble your view!

One of the things My Own German and I don't agree upon is the modern wind mill. The wind turbine.

Germany has the largest number of wind farms in the world. Drive on the German highway, and you're surrounded by futuristic white mills. Turning their wheels in the wind.

I always relax. By seeing them. They remember me of lazy chairs in the South of France. A fresh breeze of air playing with your hair. Bringing some freshness in a warm and lazy day. White wind mills on the background. Playing their wheels.

I look at them with admiration. The story of clean energy in a modern, stylish dress. A story of how natural elements will keep on carrying our future. Wind energy used in the 1st century AC. And still there. Still turning.

But Germans seem not to agree. At least, My Own German doesn't. To him, the futuristic wind mills disturbs the landscape. Disturb the view on Germany's nature. On green. White futuristic skelets.

Bizar, no? How the use of natural elements can disturb our nature?

Germans, don't mind the view. What I have seen and learned from your green culture is astonishing.

Recycling. Solar energy. Wind Parks.

You're a culture that understands better than whomever that the world is there to last. Even when we don't.

Last.

Teach us. Teach it to all of us. And don't let the wind mills disturb your view.

Alice.

Leave Germany and it feels like Africa.

I'm sitting in a cab of a Congolese cab driver. I am always suprised how much there is to learn from the person in the front seat during a 10 minute cab drive.

Today I learned about borders. A Congolese cab driver fleeing Congo to find better luck in Europe. I am not so sure if he found it. He misses Congo. For twenty years now.

He started in Wuppertal. In Germany. And he loved it. He loved Wuppertal. But he did not find good luck. Economically seen.

So, today he moved to Brussels. Just a border away. We think. I think. But to a Congolese cab driver it felt like moving back to Congo.

Everything in Germany was structured. He says. Everything. The streets. The office hours. And if they say they open at 9, they really do open at 9. If they say they'll help you, they do. If you choose a government, you get one.

He misses the structure. Cause at least coming from the chaos in Congo, Europe - or better Germany - brought him structure. And now he's back to off...It did not take more than crossing one European border in a cab...

And it feels like Africa.

Waaaaw. And we wonder if we'll loose our cultural identity in Europe? The differences are as big from one country to the other as from Europe to Africa. Says the Congolese cab driver.

Chiquita, Chiquita and the German Unity

My own German promised me a present for October 3rd. Tag van die Deutsche Einheit.

No flowers. No ring.

Chiquitas I get.

Bananas for the German Unity. Bananas to remember a wall. Or better, bananas for a falling wall.

Cause when the wall was put down in 1989, Germans from the West had a present for Germans in the East.

Chiquita. Bananas.

Cause that's what they missed in the East. Import products. Like bananas.

What a pity that these stories are not told at school. To students in foreign countries. In history class.

It would have made it so much easier to understand the German Unity. The impact of the Wall. And the impact of a fallen wall. A monument of history. Too ennoying to learn in a little foreign class.

History could have been so easy.

As a banana.

About Germans, beer and water

Germans like beer. They get confused about water.

Take the sea. Germans make it very complicated. They call the sea das Meer. While the English call it the sea. The Dutch call it the zee. The Swedish talk about the sjö. All sounds pretty similar, no? Except than for the Germans.

But it even gets more confusing. Cause there are also the lakes. That's what the Germans then call der See. So you have the Bodensee. In the South of Germany. And that's than a lake.

Are you still with me?

Wait. They made it even more complicated. Cause they have also their Ostsee. And that's a sea. And a Nortsee. They just call it das Meer. Except when they have a proper conversation - cause then it becomes the Nortsee and the Ostsee.

Even my own German got confused by it today. Cause try to explain why the Northsee is a sea, while the Bodensee is a lake. He even had to conclude that there is a lake at Hannover with the wrong name - das Steinhudermeer. A lake with the name of a sea.

Yep. That's what you get when you want to make it complicated. Now you just don't know yourself anymore.

Germans... Stay with the beer. Oke?

Eurodisney for Germans

The Germans are proud on what's left of their history. In terms of "what's left of their history after the war". And that's not so much.

But when something's left, they take good care of it. Build new streets. Put the right lighting. Shops. Beer garten. And some music.

For one little moment I doubted. Is this Main Street in Eurodisney? Disneyland for Germans? Or is this one of these romantic, old left-overs in Germany? History that was not troubled by war. And definitly not troubled by the after-war architecture.

I let you decide for yourself. Are these photos made in historical Hann. Münden? Or Germany's Disneyland?

Live in the fast lane

My own German smiles when he passes the border back into Germany. He claims that driving as fast as you want frees the mind. Frees people. Yeah. It definitly frees male testosteron.

But my own German didn't take into account the road works. Baustelle. No country in the world with more road works than Germany. From 220 kilometers an hour to 60.

My own German thinks it is because they are a big country. That's why they have many road works. I think it has to do with freedom and men.

Give them a little. But not too much.

Let them drive 220. But not too long.

Castle for Sale

Let's be clear, I am the type of woman who means what she says. If I say moving to Germany, I mean it. My own German gets it now. I am looking for a house. In Germany.

You think the Internet is the right tool. We discuss a budget. And off I go. Nights sitting in front of a screen looking for that one house.

Untill I discover the button "specials". Spezial-Angebote.

If the Germans say special, they also mean it. They sell a whole patrimonium of castles over the Internet. And they are not even that expensive. Well, if we increase the budget a bit. A good bit.

I agree. Fully. The German patrimonium is solid. And traditional. Should-be-maintained. With butler if possible. And housekeeping. But without is also acceptable. As long as we go for a traditional, German solid house.

A castle. I want a castle.
I mean it.

Alice

PS: You're looking for a house in Germany? Try the "specials" - click here

Deers, salamanders and a gold fish

I told you that Germany is green. And that one day I would take out my hiking boots and that I would walk. Hiking even. In the green.

So, that's what I did. My own German and me. Hiking in the German green.

First stop with my own German guide. Ants. Thousands. They live in an enormous hill. And they itch. Very. Very. Very. Itchy.

Second stop. A mouse. Well, I am not afraid of mouses and this one clearly is not afraid of me. I sit down and watch it's activities. Without being itchy.

Third stop. A black and yellow fire salamander. Now, this is interesting. I have never seen a black and yellow striped shiny salamander before. We just don't have them in my home town.

The hike stops with my own German promising we go searching for deers next time. I like deers. I don't have them in my home town. And they are not itchy.

So, I am into green now. And into animals. For days I am asking my own German for my own German animal.

It's decided. I get... a gold fish.
At least they are not itchy.

The Modern Art Show

Guided tour through Documenta. The worldwide respected Modern Art Show.

My own German is not so impressed. Well, he is the son of an art teacher. I think he has had enough of it.

But I am enthusiastic. And let me tell you, I can be very. Very. Very. Enthusiastic. So I convince him to take the invitation and guide me through the most famous Modern Art exhibition of Germany.

He warns me over and over. It is no fun. It is boring. And Modern Art is supposed to be not understandable. Kassel can be proud to have the event. But it's not for him. Surely also not for me.

And you know what? I loved it!

I don't know what the guide was talking about. She was Swiss. Let that be my excuse. But some things just speak for themselves. My own German does. Documenta too.

http://www.documenta.de/

Green

You know what Germany does to me? It makes me green...
No, not money-wise. Really green.

I feel like putting on my hiking boots and walking. Forests. Fields. Lakes.

I really did not expect this. But Germany is green.
Nature-wise then.

Light, please?

I drive regularly home. To my own country, I mean. It takes some patience and navigation skills -for a woman-, but the Germans allow a quite nice speed on their highways. So it moves.

At least, if you don't drive at night. You see, my home country has never heard about energy savings. We put the light on at night. In your house. And on the highway. It does not matter of anyone uses the streets or not. There-will-be-light.

So I try to find my way on the German highways. No light. And even though I like the environment and all the energy saving discussions, black is black. Without light I can not see. And as soon as I use the full lights of my car, someone at the other site of the highway flashes back to say I can't.

Can someone put the light on, pleeeeease?