This is a summary of stuff that I had intended to post on during my stay in Germany but for one reason or another didn't. Try laziness and that will get probably 2 or 3 of them, the others are probably because I thought 'that would be a good idea to write about!' and then promptly did not nothing to remind myself later.
World Cup chantsI've never heard so many classic tunes with their heart and soul ripped out as I did in Germany:
Finale, oh, oh...finale oh-oh-oh-oh' [to the tune of Volare].
It doesn't go anywhere either, it's just, 'Finale, oh, oh...finale oh-oh-oh-oh', and then another round if people can be bothered. It was somewhat dissatisfying to sing this one because you just wanted to sing the rest of the chorus.
Well, maybe it was just the one classic song that I can remember, but some of the other chants were:
"(insert surname of offending player) ist homo-sexuell, homo-sexuell, homo-sexuell" (hmm)
"Du kannst (or Ihr kann) nach Hause fahren, du kannst nach Hause fahren, du kannst nach Hause fahren" (You (or Youse - plural) can go home now)
"Schade, (country or player), alles ist vorbei, alles ist vorbei..." (It's a shame (name), but it's all over now, all over now.. - I heard this one the most after Poland got beaten by Germany)
"Jetzt geht's los, jetzt geht's los..." (let's get a move on/get it started - this one was great because you keep going with it...)
"Auf geht's Deutschland schiessen Tor, schiessen Tor, schiessen Tor-or-or..." (Let's go Germany, shoot a goal, shoot a goal, shoot a goal)
The most memorable one (after I finally worked out which words I misheard and thought were other words) was (in English) "54, 74, 90, 2006" which are the years that Germany had previously won the World Cup, plus this year:
Vierundfunfzig, vierundsiebzig, neunzig, zweitausendsechs,
Ja so stimmen wir alle ein,
Mit dem Herz in den Hand und den Leidenschaft im Bein,
Werden wir Weltmeister sein.
(that was the chorus)
54, 74, 90, 2006,
So sing we all together (?! - it is actually kinda like that)
With our hearts in our hands (I'm sure it should have been hands on hearts) and the passion in our legs (!)
We'll become world champions.
Yes it sounds rude translated but hmm well it was very catchy. Classic Moment number Whatever It Is was when I heard this song again after Germany got knocked out, and I remember thinking, whoops, this is the wrong song to be playing- and then I heard the end of the first line: "54, 74, 90, 2010" (in the German it is just the one syllable changed: 'sechs' to 'zehn') Tricky, haha, I thought. Kind of like insurance for the band so they still get airtime if we don't win the World Cup. Still in the future tense but poignantly, also still quite relevent this year. Slick.
Nationalism and flagsAs everyone knows, Germany had a wee problem a few years back with a little chappie who had a rather rude little moustache. After the end of WWII and the beginning of post-war occupation of Germany, concerted pressure was sustained to deflate German nationalism and by assumed inference, German militarism.
It became illegal to fly the German flag, sing the gloriously baroque '
Deutschland über alles' or basically, to assert German cultural and national identity with any of the patriotic overtones enjoyed by the Allied victors. Infused with that you have a culture of guilt that the war survivors and their children grew up with and today there is a wonderful mixture of older people who will not allow a German flag in their house and will at the first opportunity talk of discomfort and even shame of the past, with younger people, some of whom dislike the modern day Germany (but not for the reasons their elders do) and others who see no problem in embracing and affirming their patriotism as, for example, the Americans do.
I took the opportunity to ask nearly every German person I met what they thought of the World Cup and the 'new-found' patriotism, evidenced most clearly by the immense amount of flags and flag-coloured memorabilia available around the country. The 'elder' generation showed the unease they had inherited from WWII, the younger to middle-aged showed similar unease but in some cases a renaissance of sorts, and the youth displayed none of the inherited unease but opinions all of their own.
A 'renaissance of national happiness'I met a German man at Fusion who had at first ignored most of the flag-waving hoohah going on before and during the World Cup, until his 4-year old son had challenged him on it.
His son asked him (in German), 'Daddy, why don't we have a flag on our car? How will people will know that we are happy? We need to have a flag on our car.' Referring of course to the mini-flags that everyone was putting on their aerials or wedging in their passenger windows, his son made him think about it and he told me that he realised his antipathy for the sweeping nationalism left him out of touch with the rest of the population - people would assume he wasn't happy for Germany to be hosting the World Cup, or for Germany to be showcasing herself to the world (among other tourist attractions, the weather was unseasonably warm and calm for June, I was told on more than one occasion) - and so he got a flag for the car and joined the rest of the population in sharing their
happiness - if not their
pride - in Germany's time in the spotlight.
Two other opinionsI experienced two broadly different views from my fellow yoof that I met and drank with: the first was the normalised, 'status quo' 'Deutschland! Deutschland!' passion that would be matched by Kiwis watching the
All Blacks smash the Wallabies, the second, an anti-capitalist, anarchist, stridently left-wing view of a leading supplier of arms to the world (incidentally, one which I encountered at commie-fest Fusion. Coincidence?).
So the first opinion was a brand of nationalism that was most recognisable: getting decked out in the national colours, drinking to the name of the country (a tinge further right-wing than I had initially realised), singing anthems and getting the flag painted on your cheek. That kind of thing.
The second was from a chap who would have been content to be stripped of his nationality: it was enough, according to him, to be known as Franz from Bremen (I can't remember his name or his town) rather than Franz the German. To be German was nothing special for him: the Germany he knows is a country that exports arms, death and mayhem to the rest of the world, it is not him and he has no desire for it to be. The industries and cultural exports of the country did not sit well with him and accordingly, he had no desire to be associated with them or the name that encompassed them.
Moving on from Nazism: criminalising the past?What worried me the most was the legislated and seemingly entrenched determination I saw in people's attitudes, the enthusiasm they had for destroying any chance of Nazi rhetoric from re-emerging: slogans such as 'No voice to the Nazis' betrays freedom of expression to a (however justified) mixture of intense shame and horror for the atrocities carried out in Nazi Germany. It is a an attitude that the world wants (wanted?) to see from Germany but I wonder whether such attacks on freedom of expression will be used to the detriment of genuine protest in the future.
For example, to 'out' a right-wing view as bordering on fascism (see
here for an interesting theory on this very subject) could become a way of shutting down debate and assigning criminal convictions to those who openly discuss views. It is a very 'slippery slope' thought to have, but I have to say I cringed slightly at the sight of the banner I saw at Fusion containing the above 'expression' (No voice to the Nazis).
New ZealandersGermans luurve Kiwis. Those that have heard of NZ, that is. It is what sets you apart from the British 'lager louts', and by definition from our cuzzies in Oz. And what better stroke to your ego is it to be recognised as being separate from Australia and by someone on the other side of the world no less!
So, never waste an opportunity to tell people you are from NZ. The ones that react will be your friends in five minutes, the others you may have to work on for a few hours...
Threats to your female company in GermanyWhile enjoying the company of German women, a few things became clear in my head, especially after the
events in Munich involving Aussies 1 & 2. In particular, as a Kiwi in Germany out on the town with a German girl (or group of girls even) there are certain types of guys who may or may not present a threat to your companions.
The AustralianCrikey!
This little fella obviously ranks up there in terms of danger. Not only do you share a weird Antipodean accent with this nocturnal prowler, you are also from the same corner of the globe as him and thus have less 'exotic' factor to separate you from your standard European or other local predator.
The Australian also projects the 'bloke' image with ease and for some reason the Aussie drawl can be quite endearing to German girls (even if they are unable to put their finger on the difference between that and the Kiwi '
fushnchups'). The casual attitude and propensity to engage in 'alpha-male' type drinking games further confirms this species as a clear and present danger to your company.
In fact, people are more likely to have heard of Australia than New Zealand, however the chances are that this is due to Australia's prominence in global politics and the seemingly 'hokey' relationship between John Howard and George W. Bush. New Zealand's punching weight in this scene is a little weak, however it seems to make up for it by aggressive marketing and word of mouth reports of New Zealand's scenery. So when you mention New Zealand, the first or second thing they always say about New Zealand is that it is beautiful.
So if you can make an advantage out of that when confronted by this little ripper, go for it. Other tactics include doubling down, welcoming the Australian and claiming the best he has to offer as if it were your own. Otherwise, approach with extreme caution.
The GermanNext in line is of course the local lad. Not only does he speak the language better than you, he can make the jokes quicker than you too. His fatal flaw is that he remains the local lad. No excitement or exotic whiff of adventure about him. He can talk and talk and talk, but if a German girl is interested in hearing a Kiwi accent, the German will get nowhere.
Which means of course you need to give her a reason to be interested and lay on that Kiwi charm. And speak English!! Don't tempt fate unless she laughs at the jokes you make in German. If there are no laughs, then switch straight back to New Zealand English.
The AustrianThe Austrian is a similar threat to the German, but a little more dangerous, by virtue that almost everyone loves Austria because they think of mountains and snow. So the Austrian has a different brand of exotic appeal, and if you are not careful, the German girl may just be swayed by the Alpine charm of the lad from Salzburg or the cultured appeal of the Viennese art director. This one will speak standard German with ease, however can be relied upon to slip in the Austrian accent here and there, prompting the inevitable question from the German girl and ensuring further conversation.
Possible tactics to deal with this one: allow him to
deal with the drunks in the bar, drink him under the table, or join forces. Joining forces (if in the company of more than one German girl) may prove less risky than with an Australian, because you still have the South Pacific appeal going for you and in my experience you can generally trust an Austrian not to run off with your date for the evening.
A dangerous but relatively pleasant and benign specimen.
The EnglishmanThis one is not a real threat in the sense of the word, because you share whatever exotic appeal he has, will be able to speak English just as well as him and perhaps most compellingly because the non-boozy types are likely to have a little more class than to try and steal your date.
If they do however, be prepared for a fight as an educated Englishman who can speak even a little German will take your quaint Kiwi mannerisms to the cleaners.
Rarely encountered in the wild but can present grave danger.
The IrishmanNow this one is a dangerous specimen. Everyone loves the Irish for similar reasons to the Austrians: they have gravely distorted notions of quaint stout Irishmen sitting in their local pub drinking Guiness and stamping their feet to the sound of the fiddle and fife. That quaint charm again - it is a threat to the exotic, quaint charm of the Kiwi.
The Irishman may challenge you to a fight, drinking contest or
some other craziness, but apart from the drinking contest, you should decline all invitations. The accent is his main asset and the longer he talks, the more he will charm your date. The best tactic with this one is to speak German as best you can, but if that fails and the conversation steers toward English, imitate the Irish accent as badly as you can in the hopes that this will derail him.
This one is dangerous but again, quite benign unless provoked.
I found a closer affinity with the Irish (men and women) that I met on my travels than I did with the Australians. It is probably due to my Irish ancestry and the fact that the Irish accent is the first one I roll into when I am imitating accents.
Another KiwiFor obvious reasons, is the most bloody dangerous one of the lot. Unless your companion for the evening has a friend that your fellow countryman can work his charm on, you have a big problem on your hands.
Thankfully however, I was never in that situation, but unfortunately, that means there is precious little advice I can offer.
CitiesAs I passed through
Mainz on the train, I thought to myself that it the kind of place you would go to if you had a grandmother to visit. I couldn't think of anything else nice to say about Mainz as I went through it and I didn't stop, which is probably a good thing. I probably would have deeply offended the locals and got beaten up before getting back on the train.
They call
Frankfurt am-Main ('on the river Main')
Bankfurt and
Mainhattan for its financial community (the second largest in Europe behind London) and its similarity to New York (I think for the banking thing again). Incidentally, the
other Frankfurt (Frankfurt am-Oder) is a bit of a titchy little town deep in the heart of
eastern Germany right on the border with Poland.
Neustrelitz and
Mirow (some villages on the way to Fusion) are boring and slow where you would go to visit your grandmother for a month because it takes so long to get there. Definitely the kind of place you could imagine harrassed parents sending their children for a few months over the summer holidays. I found myself wondering at times whether there were actually any kids in these towns or whether they got sent to the cities for the summer...
I could continue in this vein and make up all sorts of rubbish about the cities in which I stayed (and made friends) but the truth is that I found every part of Germany enormously appealing because it was a totally new experience. I loved the feeling of being way out in the wops just as much as I loved seeing the small cities that looked like they were doing their best just to survive, as much as I loved being in the big cities and comparing that to what I had seen in documentaries and to the cities back home.
