Maggie (Without) Borders: My Year in Germany

I realized that, while I had mentioned language school previously, I have yet to actually describe what it was like. As my goal with this blog was to catalogue my experience for my family/friends as well as potential participants…. Whoops. Let me get on that. So: throwback to Köln! Arrival was surreal. The first place we actually went within the city was the Carl Duisberg Centrum , or CDC, which was our language school. Awaiting us was a small reception where we were introduced to the staff. We didn’t stay for long—we were very quickly given our host families’ addresses and descriptions along with 250 Euros for food for the month, then picked up one by one by taxis or our new host parents. The next few days were spent adjusting and learning exactly what we were in for during our stay in Cologne: language classes, a weeks-long group project, mandatory trips to Bonn, and almost daily excursions. Language Classes Now, it’s worthwhile to say that I can only speak on my exper

A few weeks ago, I ran into an American friend on the train. I greeted her in English, but since she was with one of her German friends, we continued the conversation in German. A few stops later, my friend exits the train. I continue speaking to her friend, but I hear someone faintly repeating "excuse me," as we chat. I finally realize it's the man next to me trying to get my attention. I make eye contact with him. "English?" He asks. "Yes, of course," I reply. He looks, to be honest, a little worse for wear. Tattered clothes, unkempt nails, and skin smudged with dirt. English was clearly not his first language, and he didn't speak German. He smiles and shows me his phone. He's on an online German job board. "I'm looking for a job," he says in somewhat broken English, "but I don't know what this says. Can you help?" "Sure," I reply, not at all sure if I can. "What kind of job?&quo

So about 2 months ago, I moved to Hamburg. Being that it is the second largest city in Germany, a popular tourist destination worldwide, and my home until June, I figured I should probably tell you about it a little. As I said, Hamburg  is a very large and fairly wealthy city. With 1.8 million residents, the city is second only to Berlin in Germany and is the 14th largest city in Europe. The average income is just under 50,000 EUR per ear, which is equal to about $58,000. This is most likely due to Hamburg's status as the second largest port in Europe--Hamburg's history is marked with multiple instances of destruction, but the nature of its port has helped it recover and prosper after each disaster. Neuer Wall is one of the more luxurious shopping districts in Europe. It's located in the center of the city, right by Rathaus (City Hall) and contains storefronts for Rolex, BVLGARI, Coach, etc. One of my favorite things to do is walk through the lights on this street

I said this before, but leaving Cologne was awful. Just as I was starting to feel settled in, it felt like I was ripped from my friends. We all promised to visit each other, so I decided to end my first month in Hamburg with a trip to the capital of Thuringia, called Erfurt, to visit my friend Marissa. Erfurt is about 6 hours by bus away from Hamburg. It’s located in what once was East Germany, but it’s actually somewhat close to the center of the country. It’s a fairly small capital city—the population is only about 210,000, which is comparable to Birmingham, Alabama. It’s surrounded by a beautiful landscape of low hills, forests, and farms, and a lot of the architecture is old-fashioned and elaborate. Needless to say, it is a far cry from a city like Hamburg, and a very welcome change of pace and scenery for me. Erfurt on a map of Germany. I arrived in Erfurt on Friday evening. Marissa was waiting for me with her two tutors and three other PPPler. We went immediate

On my second day in Germany, I posted a photo on Instagram of some trees, noting how they were different than the ones in the US. One of my former coworkers, an international student herself, commented that she had noticed the same thing when she came to the US, and then welcomed me to life as an international student. This made me pause. I’m an international student? I thought,  I don’t feel any different. While at language school in Cologne, I was able to let this go. Given that I was surrounded by [mostly] Americans day in and day out, my status as an international student went largely ignored. This changed immediately once I arrived in Hamburg and started attending university. It’s amazing what a language barrier can do to you and your personality. At home, I was self-assured. I didn’t worry about people talking to me, and I didn’t worry about having to talk to them. Asking for help wasn’t a chore, and getting to know others wasn’t a source of anxiety. Now that I’m th

Maybe you can tell by the title of this post, but moving to Hamburg was, in a word, terrible. My train left at approximately 6am, which meant I woke up at 4am to make sure I had everything ready and that I could get to the Hauptbahnhof in time. Waking up that early wasn’t bad, but waking up to a blank room was a little jarring. Trying to ignore the fact that I was leaving the place I had just started to consider “home,” I got out of bed, took the sheets off my bed (to make it easier for my host mom to clean), and got ready to go. It was as I was gathering all my bags that I realized that I have way too much stuff. In my defense, a lot of the weight was paperwork that I had accrued from the GIZ. Regardless, it was heavy. I steeled myself once more, finally wearing all of my bags, then realized that it was raining. Of course. Luckily, it slowed down right as I left the house, meaning that I didn’t have to try to carry an umbrella at the same time as all of my other stuff.

I didn’t think I’d be really super sad about leaving Cologne, but I suppose that it’s a good thing I am. While occasionally a thorn in my side, I really enjoyed language school. My class was so much fun, and my classmates made waking up early every day worth it. I truly felt comfortable and happy while I was there, and my German is so, so much better. I owe my enjoyment and education entirely to my teacher, Tina. She is definitely one of the best teachers I’ve ever had, and just genuinely an incredibly kind and caring person. I will also absolutely miss my host family. My biggest regret is that I took so long to get to know them. Of course, there was no way for me to know from the start what I should do to talk to them more or even if we would like each other, but I ended up getting on really well with both my host mom and my host sister (and the cat). I’m going to miss friendly, stress-free conversations and the feeling of being at home somewhere. I’m also going to miss occ

Five years ago, my high school had a German exchange student, Wera. I got to know her really well, and we became good friends. We suffered through both band practice and teenage drama together, and since she left to return to Germany, we talked about seeing each other again one day. I knew as soon as I was accepted for CBYX that I was going to visit her as soon as I could! We finally scheduled a weekend for me to come to her hometown, Regensburg, and I could not have been more excited. My trip was the weekend of Sept. 22, which turned out to be perfect. All the other PPPler were going to Munich for Oktoberfest, which didn’t interest me. Going to visit Wera was way more exciting. I arrived in Regensburg late Friday evening. It was so bizarre to see her again—almost like the 5 years in between high school and now had never happened. We went back to her house where I met her (incredibly hospitable and kind!) sister and mother. We spent the rest of the night catching up,  and m

Hey! Long time, no see, right? Sorry about that. Between trying to enjoy my last weeks in Cologne/moving to Hamburg/getting uni all figured out, I've had basically zero time to give this blog the attention it needs. In short, everything is alright! I'm just busy. Now for the warning: I have typed a few posts in the meantime, and I finally have time to write a few more things today. This means that I'm about to post a lot of stuff.  My apologies in advance to your poor email. So... los geht's!

As an American, I am accustomed to customer service. I’m used to giant, carefully curated and artfully decorated supermarkets. I am used to friendly, smiling store staff who are perpetually curious if I need help. I am used to being in no rush and everyone else being on my time. In Germany, none of that is the case. For the first time in my life, grocery shopping is stressful. The stores are usually small and minimally decorated. Products are placed on the shelf still in the boxes in which they were shipped, and if you want a single bottle of juice or can of Pringles, you’re going to have to take it out of the packaging itself. The store staff is nice, but they will not go out of their way to help you or smile at you. The most jarring thing about shopping for groceries in Germany is checking out. You’re not on your time, you’re on everyone else’s time. You have to bring your own bag (or pay for one there), and when you check out, the cashier scans your things (very quickl

So this post is late. Super late. I got busy, okay! Anyway, here it is now, so enjoy. ______________________________ Traveling around Europe is super weird. It’s so easy and inexpensive to book a trip to some of the world’s most notable cities, and you’re perpetually a just a hop, skip, and a jump away from a culture entirely different than the one in which you currently find yourself. Maybe that’s why everyone here is so big on taking vacations. My first “international” trip outside of Germany was to, as the title states, Amsterdam. I went with ~10 other PPPler, so we rented out an entire apartment in the center of the city. Not really sure why Amsterdam was the destination of choice this go ‘round, but I was on board as soon as I received an invitation. To be honest, I had virtually zero expectations going in. I mean, I expected to see old buildings and experience fresh, marine air, but other than that, I was along for the ride. I think I prefer it that way—when I’m no

I'm a person who's pretty in tune with their personal identity. I've been through dozens of hours of RA training and have read endless works from people both like and unlike me about what it means to identify as something and how those identities steer your existence. Before leaving for Germany, we had to do an activity where we wrote down all of our identities on a sheet of paper. The task was to name at least 6; I named 33. Up to this point, I'd taken a magnifying glass up to most of my identities: my race, my age, my body type and ability, my gender, my sexual orientation, my class, my relationship status--you name it. However, one thing I hadn't really been able to analyze before was my American identity; that single identity that has steered my perception of myself in society, my view of history, my understanding of the world... all because of where I was born and raised. I knew that my identity as an American ran deep. There's no escaping my clear, mid