One Road Rule to Live By

Baseball (T-ball) T, cricket bat and whiffle ball.  Matthew makes up his own rules.

I keep going on about the great Australian spirit; the friendliness, the thinking of others, the general 'joie-de-vivre' that makes everyday life that much less stressful and more fun.

I can illustrate in no better way than in traffic.

They might have road rage in Sydney, I don't know, but I certainly haven't seen anything but patience and good humor out our way.

Take it from me; I've been driving on the left hand side of the road- from the right side of the car - for only a few weeks now.  And while I do have it down MOST of the time, there is a LOT of construction going on because of flood damage to roads and bridges.  And while I can drive on the left, take a traffic circle to the left and all sorts of other oddities, they DO throw me a curve ball (which is an AMERICAN analogy, deal with it!) whenever they throw in construction and have us switch into the right lane or turn right or do anything out of the normal here that I have been TRYING hard to convince my brain is NOT okay to do anymore.

Andrew's new b'day bike.

I have the construction crews in stitches sometimes.

"Hey love," said one guy as he came over and asked me to roll down my window, '"technically you're still supposed to go AROUND the ENTIRE traffic circle before turning right."  The sign saying , RIGHT TURN ONLY, didn't make that clear to ME but I guess I should have known.  Instead of disdain and condescension though, which I would have gotten in Germany, I just got a "No worries, love" , a friendly smile and a wave through.

At the NEXT stop, another guy asked me to roll down the window and if I knew where I was going.  "Well, no actually," I said.  "It's my first time here.  I'm looking for a soccer field though."

"Big green thing on your left." the guy answered.  But laughing so hard that the kids in the back seat were in stitches as well.

True story.  Road tolerance and comedy instead of road rage.

Teaching my kids about authority figures.

You notice it when you accidentally try to start in third gear and miss the traffic light.  People behind you laughing and waving out the window instead of cursing at you.  Because people here seem to realize that there are worse things than waiting for a traffic light. 

Or when cars stop to let you finish crossing the street with the kids.  Instead of coming as close as they can because YOU WERE TOO SLOW and YOU MISSED YOUR CHANCE.  (Or honking at you because they want your parking space and you are too slow strapping your two kids into their car seats and putting the stroller in the trunk.  Really.  Never happened to me but apparently a common occurrence in Germany.)

Here people make room for you on the sidewalk.  Or thank you for letting THEM cross the street when YOU are in the car, instead of arrogantly walking across without making eye contact.  Because they have their RIGHTS you know.  (People are REALLY big on THEIR RIGHTS in Germany.)

It's not about the rules and the rights - Germans DO have that down - but its about realizing that it all works better when we think about others besides ourselves.  The roads are safer when we all watch out for eachother.  And less stressful too.

Controlled chaos.

I still think of that guy in Ludwigsburg who refused to relinquish his position in the CENTER of the sidewalk as my four kids tried to find ways around him.  What was the point of all that?  That breeders are inferior?  That he had his right to the sidewalk?

Wouldn't his day - and his life - have been better too if he had smiled at the kids, said hello to the parents, and enjoyed the camaraderie of another group of people out enjoying the same sunshine and greenery that he was?

How much better could his life be if he stopped worrying so much about himself and thought about the needs of others?

The Tao states, more eloquently than I, that rules and rights are poor substitions for the True Way. 

Sometimes rules make no sense.

"Joy to the World."  And stop worrying about who has the right of way.

Failed Lotus Two

I had a chance to be a bigger person again last Saturday. (I have been meaning to post this for over a week but haven't even had the chance to turn on the computer.)

As we came back from the sunflower maze Aidan found an ID card lying on the front step to our apartment. It was one of those employer cards that you need to get into the building, or to buy lunch, or something similiar. And it obviously belonged to the nasty couple downstairs, who had once again closed the front door in my face as I was unloading the twins out of the Chrysler.

Did I do the proper thing and knock on their door to return it to them, proving, to themselves and to me, that I am a bigger person, and perhaps allowing my generosity to affect them and allow them to grow into better people themselves?

I most certainly did not.

Aidan is carrying it around the apartment as I type.

I get an evil joy inside me at the turmoil the loss of that card created downstairs. The futile search, the acrimonious accusations. THEN the hassle of calling it in and replacing it.

Honestly, all they had to do was be even halfway semi-decent human beings and they would have had their card.

And honestly, if I was a better person, they would have their card despite the fact that they aren't.

I like to think of myself as an agent of the universe, allowing things to work out as they should. What goes around comes around. Karma. Just desserts.

If I were still a practicing Catholic, I'd go to confession, say a couple of "Hail Marys" and be done with it.

Except I think you're supposed to be truly sorry for your sins.

And I'm still busy getting a big kick out of the whole thing.

Oh well. In the end, I'm only human. And still working on it.

Failed Lotus

Lori doesn't read my blog regularly. I know, hard to believe.

But since she and I are able to spend two hours on the phone together and STILL not run out of things to say.....our justification is that we are picking up the kids' rooms and cleaning the kitchen while we dissect and discover the true meaning of life.

We find eachother brilliant, which is always the mark of a true friend!

I felt I had to share my latest bit of Tao wisdom with her the other day. You know, the one that goes...

"When other people are acting like assholes, does it really help any if you act like an asshole as well?"

And then we talked about ego.

Lori likes to remind me that "it's not all about you Christine."

As she switches the topic to herself. (We get along fabulously. Although I do believe we are the only two who could keep track of our rapidly diverging - and yet oddly united - stream of thought!)

I felt like quite an expert here. Because after all, not only have I read all these fantastic books on Eastern religions but I ran into that great guy from Pune, India (via Newark, New Jersey!)at the Atlanta airport last February.


"Be like the lotus," he told me. "Water sits on the lotus petal as the petal remains undisturbed."

And - shocker here - it is NOT all about me personally. Overcome that ego.

(He also turned me on to the version of the Bhagavad Gita I am reading now AND told me that the Buddhists completely missed the point when they broke off from Hinduism! We had ten hours in line together. He told me a lot more too, that I have on little scraps of paper until I find the time to type them up.)

So that I proudly explained to Lori how the realization that it is NOT all about me...and that being an asshole yourself isn't the answer to other assholes ....has been helping me around town. With the lady who stole my parking spot. I circled three more times and then found another. With the lady who lives downstairs and honestly has the time and temperament to worry about her garbage placement in relation to our car placement.....in OUR driveway!

But that not letting it get to me was actually helping me in the long run as well. A lot less anger, less stress, less to worry about. Inner peace.

Until I called the school yesterday. I should know better. But, after all that worry that the Nazi police would come and take my children from me, the truth this summer has been that it is hard to FIND someone working in Europe in the summer, close to lunch-time, when they are out ill, or generally just taking the afternoon off. Still a bureacracy.

So that I was fairly complacent and just called to see IF and HOW we unregister the children from school.

IF and HOW. What do I need to do to officially get the kids out of school since we are moving?

And the principal quietly reminded me about "Schulpflicht." The kids are legally obligated to go to school here.

That did it. No more lotus blossom. I was asking HOW. I was not asking for information regarding yet another obligation I supposedly have to a school system that apparently has no obligation to teach my child. She just needs to be there.



"Ich kenne die verdammte Regeln." I told her. "I know the damned rules. Which is why we are leaving the damn country when we are."

Honestly Lori, it felt GREAT!

There is a point here in Germany where an American has to learn to stand up for themselves. It's a very direct society, a very much in your face and tell you what to do and mind your business for you kind of place. For instance, BEWARE if you bring your baby out without socks, or feed it the wrong way, or let your kids swing in the trees.......not only do Germans know how THEY would do it, they like to tell you how YOU should be doing it too.

The German friends I tell these stories to find me hysterical. They know it's true. But they accept it as a fact of life and get a big kick out of watching me go up against it as an American. I swear, Babette and Dominique BOTH CHUCKLED at me!

I know. I have that same instinct myself. I believe it's the reason big government seems to work so well here. People like to make sure everyone is doing what they are supposed to be doing. It makes them feel secure, I guess.

But I digress. (No kidding right?)

I swore at the principal. It felt FANTASTIC. And then I WAS able to rein it right back in and get back to the point of a setting up a meeting to unregister the kids.

So that I do believe anger has its place...in short, tempered bursts. But that we shouldn't let it control us or interfere with what we need to do.

I had to remind myself that me acting like an idiot wasn't going to make HER act any less small-minded. And that it wasn't about me. That she is just a simple person who only knows her one simple way. And that her not being able to think outside the box might annoy me temporarily but that it wasn't anything personal and is something that she has to deal with the rest of her life.

Me....I'll let you know how it goes tomorrow.

I never said I was perfect Lori. I am still a small, imperfect person. But I am striving to be that lotus... and at least big enough to know that I still need to work on it!

Be like the lotus, Christine. Be like the lotus.


And if that doesn't work remember she'll still be sitting in the same flower box, in the same dry soil, with no ability to see beyond the window sill....while I am able to offer my children the chance to blossom and grow towards the light!

Om.

SPEECHLESS! Well almost....

I bit my tongue yesterday but it has to be said.

Burn A Koran Day? BURN A KORAN DAY?! REALLY? From an AMERICAN CHRISTIAN pastor?

Doesn't say much for American public schools if he missed this most basic of concepts. Something about a country founded on religious freedom? You know, the Pilgrims, Thanksgiving and all that. The whole basis of separation of Church and State. With liberty and justice for ALL? ( I know, I know, we've ignored that tenet from day one, but still...)

Never mind tolerance and generosity and loving your neighbor as yourself and all that good stuff.

This guy is LEADING a church?!

That frightens me as much as terrorist-funded ashrams in the Afghan mountains.

Someone please let him know he's misread the Bible.

Just Me (An Apology)

I knew I'd probably offend someone at some point, but I hadn't counted on hurting a friend. At dinner last night, Ladies' Night at the Brauhaus in Boeblingen, I casually mentioned the unfairness of the last line of my latest blog. I'd already added an apology for it in the comments section and I was obviously thinking about it enough to bring it up.

But my friend's reaction totally stunned me. "Yeah, you are right. That is totally unjustified and unfair. It isn't right to bring up something from over 60 years ago. At some point it is time to stop bringing it up and let it go."

She hadn't read the piece, and doesn't read the blog regularly, or I don't think the one line would have been as offensive. If you truly know me, and my writing, you know when I am venting unfairly. And you know the true me underneath it.

But all of a sudden I didn't want to take it back, no matter how unfair it is. It is MY blog, these are my personal thoughts and essays, and I don't force anyone to read it. Or agree. In fact, let's face it, the crowning glory of a blog would be to get an animated exchange of opinion going on between its readers.

I see my friend's point. I truly do. But all of a sudden I am fighting for the right of a writer to write.....even if it is a pile of shit. Even if it is hurtful or painful or even untrue. I suddenly understand why Stu quit our Writers' Group when Starbucks asked us to keep our readings nonpolitical. It wasn't that any of us were planning on writing anything political, it was just the point that a writer shouldn't be asked to curb his/her thoughts.

Okay. I get it. (But I'm still doing Starbucks.)

But it also brings me back to that last line, and why it is so important for me to keep the stupid thing in there, overexaggerated and unfair as it is.

It's because I am angry. And because I am finding it more and more difficult to live in a system that just accepts things as they are and is uncomfortable with change or with any ideas different than their own. (And yes, I do realize I could be talking about just about any society!)

It's not about Germany, or Germans; it's about more than the school system (which I will however continue to disapprove of and work to change).

It's about being German. It's about knowing that a part of me, that people close to and directly related to me were part of one of the greatest atrocities in the history of mankind; and let's face it that's saying a lot. It's competing with the American blight of slavery and racism. The annihilation of the native American culture. Ditto with the Australian Aborigines. More recently, countries all over the world look on at ethnic and religious wars in Kosovo, Rwanda, Somalia, Ethiopia, Nigeria.

Indirectly, I am guilty of way more than one stupid, little misguided sentence.

I do think quite often about what I would have done if I had been alive in Germany when Hitler was VOTED INTO power. My grandfather was too old to fight this time around. He was bummed about the loss of his factory. My grandmother had two young children and another (my father) on the way. One of the daughters from my grandfather's first marriage ended up in a concentration camp. She survived and married a Jewish man she had met and fallen in love with. They relocated to Israel,covered up her German heritage and raised their children, my half cousins, as Jews and Israelis with no knowledge of their German background.

I can't imagine not working to save as many children as I could.

So, in the end, it's all about me after all. I can say that it's the American in me that loves freedom, change and the rights of every individual to determine their own lives. Or the German in me that abhors racism and intolerance.

But it's just me. Just dumb little-old me. I can be a lot of things. (Irresponsible, irreverent, silly, stupid, funny, insensitive, unfair and wrong.)

I can also be sorry, sorry friend, that I hurt you. I know how you feel, I understand and even empathize with your view, you are right and I am unfair.

But I cannot be silent.

Random Thought: Guns

I am very pleased to see that the toy pistols the boys bought with their Christmas money from Grandpa (I took 'em to the store; I claim full responsibility) are lying forgotten in the playroom corner.

I am not as pleased that they've chewed their toast into the shape of a gun and are now shooting at eachother with it!

Right and Wrong

What still really gets me is that there is right and there is wrong. And I just don't understand why people are so afraid to stand up for it. Are they just too damn lazy, or busy, to bother? Or worse, do they really not understand the difference?

It's not just about Ryan and her walk to school, but we can start there. The other two mothers honestly don't seem to understand what all the fuss is about. The mornings work out fine with all three girls. So why not just cut out the afternoons and have them fend for themselves. This is their solution.

Why can't they see that I need help in the afternoons? Why can't they see that Ryan deserves to be good enough to walk with mornings AND afternoons? Why can't either of them see that Jule ignoring Ryan when Julia isn't there to protect her isn't right? I'm more disappointed in Julia's mom. Julia IS sweet and thoughtful and DOES stick up for Ryan. So, why won't her mother stick up for what's right?

I just don't get it. Our two girls could walk to and from school together just fine without the one causing the problems. So why, after over three years, is she still expecting me to put up with it? Why are we letting this mother get away with treating everyone else like their needs are of less value than hers?

It happens all the time. We know people aren't doing their part. We talk about it amongst ourselves, but then we continue to leave things the way they are. To be honest, we don't even talk about it much. Kind of hint at a bit of a problem and then laugh it off. Maybe bring it up generally. But never hold anyone accountable. People get away with things that are wrong. Is this just in the name of getting along?

Let's face it, in my day to day life as mommy, it's small things. And so I've learned to keep my mouth shut and play along. But, it's still wrong and....yeah....I was slowly dying inside at just accepting this and smiling along with everyone else. I won't make a fuss now. I am learning to bow out. But, damn it, I wish I could just understand how everyone else seems to just sit there and take it with a smile on their face.

And it does matter. The school system here SUCKS. I can say it, because EVERYONE AGREES. Parents and teachers anyway. The poor kids don't know anything else. IT IS WRONG. EVERYONE AGREES THAT IT IS WRONG. We bitch and moan. AND THEN WE DO NOTHING ABOUT IT. How can you live like this? I am not judging (anymore); I really want to know. There are things we can fix, problems we can solve, wrongs that we can right, if only we worked together and stood up for it.

Is it only Germany? God, I'd certainly like to think so, if only because it means that there are people out there who WILL fight for what is right and who WILL fight together for a common good.

A few years ago I would have raised a far huger stink over this thing with Ryan's walk to school. A few years ago I still would have spoken up, and at least brought attention to, the things that everyone else was thinking. But I've learned I can't do anything alone. One voice shouting in the wind is one voice shouting in the wind.

I died inside.

I've got to move on. I've got to find the place where my voice is joined by others. I can do "nice" and I can do "getting along" but I've never been one to place much value on external appearances. If it's rotten underneath, I don't care how nice you've painted over it.

I'm not going to stop being friends with Claudia because she won't defend me and my daughter. She's a good person and a good friend. (I wanted to say true friend but I couldn't bring myself to do it.) She means well and she is protecting her own small world.

But I need people who will SCREAM AND SHOUT AND HOLLER AND FIGHT - or at least write and talk about - what is right. At least TALK ABOUT what they BELIEVE IN. Seems we don't even do that anymore. Does anybody still believe in anything?!

Some people are sure going to be disappointed that I've found myself again. (Most noticeably my father.) I was a lot quieter zonked out on the couch drugged out of my mind on medications that were supposed to make me be normal. I couldn't feel, I couldn't care. I just made it through the day.

If that's normal, if that's what everyone else is really about, then I prefer being insane.

Don't worry, I'll behave. I'll play the game and sit quietly, the same vapid smile on my face as everyone else. I'll make nice.

But underneath, I know who I am, and I know that I, at least, can make a difference