Sorry Day

The boys at a War Memorial in Kallangur.   Don't worry, they've all had the 'war is bad' pacificist speech over and over.  Weapons still seem to be part of the XY mentality!

I don't know if I've publicly admitted that the holidays down here have taken a little getting used to.  The old ones you are used to in the Northern Hemisphere, like Christmas and Easter, aren't the same down here.  Dare I complain about too much beach and sun and barbeque and fun dampening the spirit of the holidays?!!  Nah!

And the uniquely Australian ones make up for it.

ANZAC day was nice.  Mostly because Aussies (and New Zealand) are truly able to thank their soldiers for protecting them and for helping others - the good mates who come to the aid of other countries in World Wars and regional wars alike without being called either imperialistic like the USA.  Or without actually BEING the bad guys, like Germany.  You can honor individual German soldiers who died for their country in private, but you can't really dedicate a national holiday to a group of people who were trying to take over Europe and wipe out the races that weren't quite up to par.  And America has Vietnam.  Australia was there too.  But it doesn't hold the same 'hush-hush oh - goodness our government was doing something wrong and should we have supported the nineteen year old boys who were over there dying even though we may have felt the government had no business sending them over there in the first place' kind of angst that the word still conjures up in the USA two generations later.

It's nice to be able to be proud of your country, without all the moral ambiguities.  (And I AM going to argue, at some point, that everyone deserves to be proud of their country, and should work on that!)

The kids marching on ANZAC Day.  (Ryan has the flowered hat on and Andrew is right behind her.)

Aussies get a little nervous when I say this, because they do have the 'aborginal issue' to deal with.  Something I may be a little less sensitive to as a newcomer - here's a race of people MY ancestors DIDN'T oppress and/or try to exterminate!  But yeah, the native Australians in Tasmania were rounded up and exterminated.  Those everywhere else were marginalized at best, and killed outright at worst.  Mixed-race children - the 'Stolen Generation' - were forcibly taken from their homes and 'reeducated'  to fit 'their proper roles' - as servants of course - in white Australian society.  For their own good.  Because the white in them was worth saving. 

So that none of us is generationally free from original sin. 

Of course, the original white Australians that came here didn't want to be here either.  They, too were the marginalized classes of Britain - the poor, the Irish (and it REALLY pisses me off that there WAS food to eat during the Potato Blight but that the English were shipping it all to their estates and leaving the Irish to starve).  The tired and poor and the usual outcasts.  And the soldiers.

Here come the Veterans.  One older gentleman had tears in his eyes.  I did too.

This month we have 'Sorry Day' coming up.  Which I believe is known as Reconciliation Week officially.  And while I am not so sure I would be big enough to be able to forgive white Australians for the past, especially for something as recent as the 'Stolen Generation', I admire those native Australians who can. 

And I admire Australia for officially, as a nation, admitting their guilt and apologizing for their collective role in it. 

"We are so truly sorry for what happened.  We are so terribly sorry that our ancestors did this to yours.  There is no making up for it.  It was truly horrible and truly wrong.  But we can work together from here to make this a country for ALL of us TOGETHER now."

XX for peace!

Shouldn't Germany be doing this for the Holocaust?  (There have been some small apologies, all rather lame and none of them speaking of true, national repentence.)  What about the USA and THEIR native Americans?  The problem being that if you apologize and admit you were wrong you would probably have to do more to change the current situation than let your native Americans rot on their reservations in marginalized lands - ie the desert that noone else wanted - and let them upon up casinos to fund their AA programs. 

The past can't be changed.  All we can do is accept responsibility and do better from here on out.

New Aussies.  Goofy but well-intentioned!

Sorry. 

Such a little word.

But such a big start.

Aussie B'days - Strange New World

We've celebrated childrens' birthdays in four countries by now and there are certain comparisons to be made.

The cake is a hit worldwide.

I don't think anyone will argue that birthday parties have gotten out of hand in countries like the USA where parents are expected to invite the entire class of 25 to 30 kids, have a themed party with clowns and jumping castle, or take the kids hot-air ballooning, anything to beat LAST year's party and keep up with the other 25- 30 parties your kid has been invited to attend.

When we were in Geneva, my best friend's daughter attended an exclusive international private school - as only Geneva can do - and not only were parents expected to fork out 40 to 50 dollars in a gift for the birthday child but often also had to invest in an elaborate princess costume or other themed outfit for the party.

I used to wonder how children like this would ever face up to reality but then realized that children growing up in such bubbles of privilege seldom ever have to.  With such wealth, the American expats - usually seen as figures of privilege in other countries - were having a hard time explaining to their kids why they couldn't have the 300 dollar jeans their classmates - European royalty and Arab oil money - were wearing.

But Aussies don't need fancy table settings.

So that practical Germany was really a relief.  Our only surprise came when - at Ryan's 5th birthday party - the girls we'd invited demanded to know the schedule of events I had planned for them.  Schedule of events?  Yes, and an art project being apparently obligatory as well.  In France we'd just fed everyone cake and mums had chatted while the kids played.  In Germany - and to be fair, the kids were getting older - kids expected choreographed entertainment. 

I managed to come up with some Christmas cookies and candy in the kitchen and led the kids in making little gingerbread houses out of crysallized sugar and M and Ms.  And, having grown up in Germany myself, I had no problem getting out the blindfold, wooden spoon and kitchen pot and having the kids bach around our living room blindfolded hunting for treats.

Once the twins were born, things got ugly.  How were we going to watch two infants and still amuse 8 older children in a small apartment?

We had to get creative, ask friends for help, and spend a little more money to take the kids out somewhere.  Ryan pushed her party back to June a couple of times to allow us to take a FEW best friends horseback riding and to the pool.  Another time we paid for a trip to a camel farm.  A little more money, and I had to find a friend to help drive, but it was worth it to have the kids amused by someone else while Damon stayed home and watched the two babies.

Uh.  Guys.  That was SUPPOSED to be a BASEBALL tee.

Andrew's bday - April 1 - allowed us to invite the dozens of friends whose bdays HE'D been invited to to a barbeque.  In retrospect we should have had people drop their kids off at the park, but part of the agreement in Germany seems to be that you take the kids off their parents hands so that they have the afternoon free for your child's bday - so one year we made my parents help drive while they were visiting.  Desperate measures, my friends.  (The first year after the twins were born we begged a few close friends to come and man the fire while I chased after the 9 month olds.  It was fun.  But most adults begged off ever doing it again.  Bday parties are NOT fun in Germany.  They are obligations.  You are obligated to entertain THEIR kids on YOUR kid's bday and they promise to take yours off your hands in return.)

Last year we took everyone on a train to a bowling center.  A nightmare, but Andrew wanted something other than a barbeque for once.

The twins were young and we were able to do a thing at the pool with family friends.  Last year, since they had started kindergarten, we had to jump in and invite kindi friends.  We had a nice group of about 5 kids who played together, whose parents we got along with and it was actually a nice season - a bunch of bday parties in June and July, a group of moms hanging around and helping out and a generally good time eating cake while the kids played.

By then I'd also learned that you CAN do your own thing and get away with it.  One friend had about four different kinds of fantastic, home-made German cakes for all the adults.  Right away, I let everyone know they would be having my standard vanilla cake only.  Another friend did have a huge Disney theme complete with monogrammed T-shirts my boys still wear today.  She was upset when the kids wouldn't stop playing in the bedroom to come and properly eat cake and drink tea.   Formalities must be observed.  (I, on the other hand, am just thrilled when the kids amuse themselves and leave well enough alone!)

It was a nice group of people.  The boys WANTED to have THEIR party IN our apartment, mostly IN their playroom so they could have all of their best friends in their room playing with their toys at the same time.  I would have preferred a park but it was their party.  We opened gifts, had cake and - prearranged with this group by now - fed everyone some quick chicken fingers for dinner so that noone had to worry about it that evening.

One mom left in a huff because HER idea had been for us to take the kids bike-riding at the track near our home and couldn't understand that Matthew and Aidan wanted THEIR party inside.  But that was her choice - it was about HER child - and the rest of us continued with chicken fingers and mini pizzas.

Just to let folks know that there are MELLOW and HELPFUL and genuinely kind and caring people in Germany.  This was a NICE group of mums I really regretted leaving.  (I should mention the previous parties for the twins with their German godmother and her four kids - thats enough - and the pool and bowling parties with Anita, Maria, Lori, Kristy- English speakers all who just wanted to help me celebrate the milestones with the twins and came to support and be there for me, not to judge.  Thanks guys.  I miss you all.)

BMX mean green machine.  Thanks grandparents.

The other thing I liked about Germany was the PRACTICALITY of it all.  No nonsense, the hassle eliminated from gift-giving.  You asked people what their child might like and, expecting at first a vague idea of likes and dislikes - got a detailed list of what YOU were down for.  As in  "Heidi  is picking up the soccer ball and will share that gift with Julian and Luka.  You are down for the educational boardgame but Jan's mom will get that and you will owe her 8.74."

What was nice that - since I could often not be relied upon to get the required item, opting in my American-like way for something I was able to find in the first store I went to rather than hunt down the other thing all over town - I often only had to fork over some cash to another, more dependable mom.

I downright refused to buy the pencil case or the travel cosmetic bag one mom asked for.  Nice lady but way too practical for my taste.  ( I still remember having to explain to an American mom that the gift her child had received - a set of mongrammed bath towels - was NOT a lame, rude and lazy gift but something I happened to know the German mother had been very excited to spend the time to go and personally order.)

The problem came when it was MY turn to crank out a gift list.  The stress of planning THAT sucked.

Uh.  Not EXACTLY what I asked for.

The other thought that DID pop into my head - and pops in often now - is that this planned and strategized gift-giving rather took the joy and the well, GIFT-GIVING, out of gift-giving.  I am having SUCH a blast just going into the stores here and picking out something I know MY boys would enjoy - some Legos, or some cars or something small, plastic and completely UNPRACTICAL.  I AM German, so it will never be junk, but what fun just to go and pick out a GIFT, rather than a pre-ordained requirement that might not meet expectations and then have to be returned.

My most German gift here so far was a gardening set for a self-professed gardener in Ryan's class.  But I think she liked it.  And it was SO MUCH FUN to shop around for something I WANTED TO GIVE rather than something I had been told to purchase.

Gifts aren't even considered obligatory here. 

Mums stayed to hang out WILLINGLY at Andrew's party.  DADS TOO!

And the kids had fun amusing themselves.

THERE IT IS!  (A cricket bat, for all you Americans.)

There is a down side.  Bday parties seem to be a FAMILY thing - a barbeque at the park with family and just a few classmates.  The upside is that the pressure to entertain the kids is off.  The adults barbeque and enjoy being together and the kids run around and do the same.  Mixed ages, mixed sexes, everyone just enjoying the day and being together.  EASY!

Our problem is that we HAVE no family here and MY KIDS want to invite their friends.  It is what they are used to: their day, their friends.  So that Andrew was very disappointed when the majority of the kids he invited didn't RSVP (NOT an Aussie thing at all to RSVP!  Funny enough, wasn't a French thing either!)  and didn't show.  (We'd had the same problem with Ryan's bday in January  - 2 out of 8 responses.)

All in expectations.  We DO have close friends already and some of them have five kids alone - so that whipping up a gathering will be no problem now that we know how it is done.

A relief really, to give up the expectations and the stress of entertaining everyone else's kids just to show your kid that they are special.  Instead, we can enjoy a traditional barbeque with close family friends and show the kids that they matter by spending time together as a family.

We also won't feel obligated to invite the dozens of kids who have invited ours.

Odd Aussie concept that - no themed costumes and intricate art projects, no expectations and obligations.

Give up the annual kids birthday party?!  HOW CRAZY IS THAT?!  But how will they know we love them?  How will we prove they are as good as everyone else?  How will we repay the people who have had us to theirs?

It's like giving up the annual Christmas cards to relatives on your husband's side who have never liked you to begin with.

Liberating.

Different.

It's a strange, new world.  (And no, you don't have to wear a costume or bring a gift to enter it!)

Why multiculturalism WON'T work in Germany

(This was written over a week ago before the shooting of American military personnel at the Frankfurt airport by a young Kosavan Muslim this week.  NOTHING condones that young man's actions.  Life is hard.  The emotions of youth are messy.  That doesn't give anyone the right to go out and take the lives of others.)

A street performer in Tuebingen, an old (think Middle Ages) university town in Germany.
We DO have some free spirits.  I admire their strength in being different in a culture that doesn't value being different.

When I heard on the news that both England and Germany had officially declared multiculturalism a failure last week, I had to laugh.

My mother could have told you this thirty-five years ago.

It's not so much that Germans are more racist than anyone else in the world.  Really.  It's not that they mind you being a different color or religion or nationality so much as they mind ANYONE being different at all. 

It's really nothing personal.   But yes, there is something wrong with you if you don't act exactly as we expect you to. 

Watching the performance on a warm Sunday afternoon.

Thirty-five years ago we asked Turkish men to come over and take over the garbage collection, the street cleaning, the potato picking and any of the other jobs we Germans didn't really want to do.  (The jobs that we ask Mexican immigrants to do in America.) 

We thought this was pretty broad-minded of us, letting darker skinned Eastern Europeans, Muslims even, into our beautiful country.  See how liberal we are?

The problem was you men began to expect things from us, things like bringing your wives and children over too, building mosques and opening kabob stands.  And now, two generations later you own hair salons and newspaper delivery services and your children sit next to ours at school.

This would all be a lot less disturbing if you would try to look and act more like us.

We don't mind the kabob stands so much.  But would you mind switching over to Schnitzel and Bier, please.  Because we really don't know what to make of the smells coming out of YOUR homes.  (Would be delicious if they just weren't so FOREIGN!)

Couldn't resist this quick shot.  Germans as relaxed and casual as I've ever seen them!

I'm tongue in cheek here - because it's easy and its fun - but I have the experience of bringing a WHITE AMERICAN into Germany, of going through the paperwork of getting Damon a work visa so that he can work in a country I and my children are citizens of.  We were greeted - well, GREETED is definitely the wrong word - with such disdain at the audacity of such a request.  You want to WORK HERE?  LIVE HERE?  Because I truly believe the Germans felts we were taking away THEIR jobs.  Like we were taking from their slice of the pie.

I cannot even imagine the treatment we would have gotten if we were darker.  If a German citizen cannot bring her white husband into the country without criticism and disdain, how is multiculturalism ever going to work?

Again, it's nothing personal.  It's not that we don't want YOU.  We just don't want ANYONE different.  We have our ways.  They work just fine.  We don't WANT to think outside the box and we certainly don't want to hear about areas we might be able to improve upon.

We are the way we are.  And that's just the way it is.  (So ist es in Deutschland.)

America has asked for 'your tired and poor.'  (Although there's been some debate on that in recent decades!)

Germany would like anyone who looks and acts exactly like the rest of us.

Or at least knows their place when they don't.

Audience participation is always a doozy.  Get the 8 year old to throw fire.

You're Not In Germany Anymore

Damon had an interesting experience while in line at the bakery the other morning. He was multitasking, walking the dog at the same time, but that generally doesn't seem to be a problem in Europe. Damon looked for a ''no dogs'' sign and, not finding one, simply brought the dog in with him. I know. I know. But this is France. ''Le petit chien joli'' can under no circumstances be forced to wait alone, outside. It just isn't civilized.

It's like that all over Europe, Germany included. ( I don't know about Great Britain but, going by the old adage that the British love their dogs and horses as well as, or more than, their own children well.....) I'm still mildly appalled at seeing dogs at the mall, in the shops, and at restaurants. Somehow, it doesn't seem right. But...since it generally HELPS my situation, I'm not going to complain about it. We don't take Wolfy to the mall or to any fancy restaurants, but he's allowed at the beer gardens and ….in an emergency will come into the bank or post office.

A lot of smaller neighborhood groceries, bakeries and butchers, don't allow dogs. But they always provide a hitching post out front.

Europe is very dog friendly.

Wolfy was sucking up all of the attention while in line at the bakery. He gets very still, and puts on a demure, love me, love me, can't help but love me, look that dog-lovers can't resist. He had four little German girls swooning all over him the day before. He really knows how to milk it.

Damon was practicing his French and flirting with the French lady at the cash register. (He didn't tell me this last part but, I know. I've seen him in action!) ''Le petite chien est tres joli. Et quel genti aussi. Awwwww!'' Does this really need to be translated? The French were swooning over him. ''Quel age?'' (How old? And forgiveness from anyone who speaks French, I can only think of the question in Creole right now?! ''Ki laj li genyen?'' for anyone interested.)

It continued for quite a while. The line was long. The mood – and pace – were French. It seemed like every French family camping here also needed their baguettes and croissants and pain-au-chocolate. Fresh out of the oven. Warm and flakey like only the French can bake ém. (And the northern African immigrant who won the award for best French bakery this year. Globilization – you go girl! Seems even the French agree that anyone who can make French pastries counts as a real Frenchman, regardless of race or ethnicity.)

Appears that most of the German families were home eating Muesli. Either too cheap or too health conscious to spring for white bread, no matter how light and buttery.

I know. It's not fair to pick on ém. More than anything, I've noticed that countries define themselves by their breakfast pastries. The French have theirs, light and flakyt. The Germans eat brotchen. (Also delicious, hearty and crisp.) Americans have donuts, sugary and fattening, but like nothing else in the world. Maybe the first meal of the day helps define who we are as a people.

But they make it too easy sometimes.

As Wolfy, and Damon, basked in the adulation of the French, the woman in front of Damon obviously couldn't take it anymore. She turned to Damon and, in heavily-accented English, loudly told him that the dog didn't belong in there. The line got quiet. Because the accent was quite obviously NOT French and because the sentiments, and the abruptness, were even less so. Damon told her to mind her own business and leave him alone. Not very polite either but....how annoying to be told what to do by a GERMAN in a French shop.

Of course she was German. If she'd been Italian I wouldn't be writing this story. (What do the Italians eat for breakfast anyway?)

After the lady left, the French slapped Damon on the back and congratulated him. ''Don't worry about it man'' they said. (Or something close to it!) ''We're damn sick and tired of the Germans coming down here and acting like they own the place.'' (Insert line about when the Germans really DID think they owned the place!) And, rather patiently from the women, ''it's not their fault. The Germans are just odd that way.''

I've always said it. The French have a lot in common with the Americans. (Although neither side wants to admit it.) We are both scared to speak a second language. (It's not only arrogance, folks, it's fear.) We both value individual liberty over common law. Both of us fought revolutionary wars, against kings, for 'liberte, fraternite,egalite.'' It's something the Germans wouldn't understand. French liberty emphasizes the individual even more than the American does. If a Frenchman isn't following the rules, noone corrects him, the way they do in Germany. Its almost as if the laws and signs are a suggestion, rather than a command. And there is nothing to compare it to in the German psyche. Germans need their rules.

In the same way, the German old-world structural heirarchy makes ''egalite'' an impossibility. But, playing by American rules here, that everyone is created equal, I don't really notice. I do know, however, that it pisses my German cousin, and a lot of other German businessmen, off that we Americans come over here so darn friendly and smiling and shaking hands and being nice to everyone. Who do we think we are?

I've seen German ''fraternite'' only once. June/July 2006 when the German soccer team rose to the finals in the World Cup held in Germany. Germany charmed the world that summer. We need more of that. The jokes say that the only two times the Germans ever felt national unity, they started two world wars. But I'll be the first to agree that that has got to change. When Americans see eachother we practically fall all over eachother like long lost relatives, irregardless of the fact that we've never met. The French are a little more dignified, but smile warmly, secure in the knowledge that they are countrymen, The Germans, I swear it, are sizing eachother up to detemine if they are going to have competition for the choice spot at the pool.

And now it hits me. The French hate a bully. They fight for the underdog. In this case, our Wolfy. In others, our kids. Six years ago, when I was flying from France to the USA alone with Ryan and two year old Andrew, I had a heated exchange with an older (French) man sitting in the row ahead of us on the airplane. Let's face it. His seat sucked. Andrew was on his best behavior, but he was two. This meant playing with cars, listening to stories and singing nursery rhymes. Apparently my singing was not impressive. When the guy turned around and asked me to keep my kid under control I apologized that I was doing my best. I empathized with him and told him I was very sorry. He told me that wasn't good enough. I suggested that if he could do better, he was welcome to try. I also, in a show of support, suggested he take advantage of the free red wine the airline was offering. I sure as hell was. He told me I was a ''typical American'' , unwilling to accept responsibility. I told him he was a typical man, one who had obviously never spent any time with the three kids he claimed to have raised.

The stewardess came by and told me not to worry about it. Later, as we were exiting the plane, more than five other passengers (women, to be sure) made it a point to come up to me and show their support. ''You did just fine,'' they said. Loudly. So that my antagonist would be sure to hear. ''We didn't even know you had two kids sitting with you. That man had no right to treat you that way. Good for you for sticking up for yourself.'' My French was better then, but I remember the message. On a plane full of French people, against a French antagonist, people took my side. It had nothing to do with nationality. Probably more to do with the solidarity of motherhood. But even more to do with right and wrong.,

Damon's incident at the bakery has less to do with nationality than it at first appears. (Although,let's face it, sixty years isn't going to erase centuries of rivalry over land and domination.) The fact that the woman was German, was unfortunate, for her and for the reputation of her countrymen. But she might just as well have been a well-intentioned, bumbling American. The point is that we don't own the countries that we come to visit. The campers are German and English and Dutch as well as French. Even a Lithuanian license plate and some Americans. You hear as much, or more, German and English, than French. (It was worse when we vacationed in Italy, or in Mallorca. It makes you realize why the Germans always look so shocked when you remind them that German isn't a world language.)

But this is THEIR country. And you play by THEIR rules.

What fun is a holiday in France, if you've never even bothered to leave Germany? You can go to France, and to Italy, and to Mallorca without ever leaving the comfort of your home. Book through a German travel company and you'll never have to hear a foreign language or try a foreign meal.

Try leaving your (German or American) self behind the next time you travel. You'll be amazed at how much fun you have. My goodness, at least try learning a LITTLE of the local language. (Don't look so shocked when I tell you that French really IS a world language!)

And, word to the wise, if everyone else is admiring the little dog in the bakery – in THEIR OWN COUNTRY – try joining in instead of antagonizing everyone.

Personally, I agree wholeheartedly that pets don't belong in a bakery. But....in general I think, not only in France, being friendly gets you a lot farther than being right.