A Fluorescent Pink Wonderland

My poor roomie's been cooped inside our apartment, sick the past few days. Not only is she feeling crappy and mind numbingly bored, she's also unwittingly being held captive as my very own personal German dictionary. She cannot be happier! I know, I know but I can't help it. Why in the world would I waste my time walking to the other side of the room to look something up when she can spew out the correct word for me in 0.5 seconds? It's especially bad when I'm out and about by myself for a few hours, an illiterate loose on the streets. I'll come back and start hurling out phrases I've seen on signs or finally ask what lecker means since I seem to I see it on every other corner.

It doesn't hurt that she's a genuinely sweet, helpful person either. I had joked the other day that I needed to start putting post-it notes on every object in the apartment so I could learn the appropriate German word. (I did this when I was learning Spanish and I most definitely looked like I was experiencing a downward spiral into dementia but it did help). So the other day, she cheerfully came home with a pack of brightly colored post-it notes. Yesterday, amidst soup and tea, the poor girl's boredom apparently hit a new level and she so kindly began to label things in our kitchen on neon pink square shaped notes.

I was thrilled to find out that a toaster is der Toaster. I was also excited that a calendar is der Kalendar. I was not excited, however, to hear that the fridge is der Kühlschrank.

"Oh man, I'm never gonna remember that!" I whined. "How about a phrase to get into my head? How about 'Our fridge is empty?'"

"All right," she replied and scrawled down Unser Kühlschrank ist leer onto a post-it and slapped it onto the fridge.

For the next fifteen minutes or so, she labeled and slapped notes onto objects throughout the kitchen. I tried my best to actually pronounce every word. I think I did okay. I mean, I can say das Geschirr (the dishes) all right but her reaction to the word, die Küche (the kitchen), tells me that I have some work ahead of me.

But that's okay. I start my class next week. I'm excited about it even though I'm quite certain I'll come home crying the first day, citing that I AM CLEARLY NEVER GONNA LEARN THIS LANGUAGE at which point I will wonder out loud to no one in particular why all languages can't just use "the" instead of assigning private parts to all articles.

But I'm not going to get too far ahead of myself. Right now, I will enjoy the fact that Unser Kühlschrank ist leer, Unser Kühlschrank ist leer, Unser Kühlschrank ist leer. Wait...what? Oh, no! And it's Sunday (aka Anti-Shopping Day), too. Brunch anyone?

A Sheep and a Cat Walk Into a Bar...

Some studies have shown that continually taking classes throughout one's life can stave off Alzheimer's disease. Well, I certainly think I deserve a free pass to a nimble mind in my elder years, considering the brain power I will expel attending a German class five times a week.

It's not official yet but I have picked up a class schedule already and it is daunting. Three hours a day, five days a week? Yikes! However, the nerd in me is very excited. Although I hated most of my school years (I can safely blame the social forces at hand at the time), I loved college. Not only did I get to redefine myself amongst a new group of peers, I loved the freedom to study as I wished. I adored scheduling classes when I wanted them to be and then rolling out of bed and running to a lecture hall where I would sip coffee and take notes. Or not take them. It was all up to me how I wanted to learn and for the most part, what I wanted to learn.

So now it's even better. No math requirement to fulfill, no minimum credit load to carry, I just get to study a subject I really want to learn. However, rest assured that part of me is still terrified. I've had flashbacks of my intensive Spanish class back in Madrid where the teacher spoke not a lick of English and instead just kept repeating the same phrase to me while I contemplated staging a fainting spell just to get the hell outta there.

But the good thing about having a few foreign language experiences under my belt is that I sort of know how to tune my brain for this kind of information. Unlike last fall when I wasn't invested in Berlin, I am now making a concerted effort to understand the signs on the street, phrases from store clerks, and anything else that comes my way. This afternoon, I strolled into the local bookstore to buy a map and got immersed in children's books. I now know that a sheep is a Schaf and that a Katze (meow, meow) likes milch. Of course, I aspire to ingest reading material suited for someone beyond toddler hood but it's a start.

The local Turkish market was strangely useful today, too. Usually, these people scare the crap out of me. I've been laughed at, I've overpaid, I've come home with eight measly apricots because I don't understand what 100 grams looks like, you get the idea. But today, I found some merit to walking through the crowded stalls as I heard a vendor bellow, "Zwei für eine! Zwei für eine! Zwei für eine! Zwei für eine!" all in a whole 0.5 seconds. His rapid fire was loud and startling and the New Yorker in me initially wanted to tell him to chill the **** out. But a moment later, I was grateful for this nearly hyperventilating dude because his repetition enabled my mind to compute, "Two for one!"

Granted, I hope my German teacher doesn't employ this technique. I'd like to enjoy my coffee during class, not spill it over the table for goodness sake. However, I am glad to remember that there are all sorts of way for me to learn this language. I mean, I really don't want to be that American who comes back to the states only knowing how to say, "Ein Bier, bitte." If anything, I should at least be able to tell you that the sheep and cat want that zwei für ein happy hour special.

Bei Mir Bist Du Schön Means That You're Grand

Why can't all language instruction be packaged in the form of fun, swinging music that makes you want to go to a speakeasy and dance the night away with some handsome GI anyway?

So I am ashamed to admit that despite the upcoming move to Berlin, I haven't studied German whatsoever unless you count the fragments from my Rick Steves phrase book that I hurled out to Jack's mom last fall in a completely exaggerated (and probably somewhat offensive) sounding accent. (And there is something very hilarious to me about prefacing every phrase with a very loud, obnoxious ACHTUNG!)

Anyway, I've been listening to some German language tracks ever once in a while to make myself feel like I'm at least trying a little bit. Unfortunately, though, they sometimes cause me to burst into laughter in the middle of an otherwise silent morning commute.

My favorite track thus far has been the one about food. In general, they say the phrase in German, wait for you to say it back, and then translate it to English. So as I was learning the German words for milk, bread, cheese, I was thinking, Yes, yes, this is all good, useful information, things that I assume are indicative of cultural norms. And then the woman on the CD suddenly burst out with:

"Asparagus with ham."

??

Really? This is one of the first, most essential phrases of the German language I'll need to get around? I think I'll stick to the swinging sounds of the 30s. I prefer words that are to be delivered with bright eyes and red lips anyway.

I could say bella, bella, even say wunderbar.
Each language only tells me how grand you are.
I've tried to explain Bei Mir Bist Du Schön.
So kiss me and say you understand...

Much more appealing than discussing vegetables and pork products, wouldn't you say?