| 17.09.2009 |
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| Beer isn't exactly without significance in German culture. You're probably aware of that already, but in case you aren't, there are any number of ways to confirm it. For me, a big source of confirmation is that, well, I drink beer here – instead of the mixed drinks or whatever else I'd usually have in the U.S. Cities and regions in Germany come to be identified with the types of beer that are produced in them, and Cologne and Düsseldorf (neighboring cities, separated by a 30 minute train ride) are no exception. Cologne is known for the beer it brews called "Kölsch" and Düsseldorf for its "Alt," which is darker – and better, if you ask me. By the way, good luck trying to find a Kölsch in Düsseldorf or vice versa. The cities are divided by a lot more than the beers they produce, though. Their proximity and long, complex histories with one another have created a rivalry that is sometimes joking and sometimes entirely serious. Many "Kölner" (people from Cologne) or "Düsseldorfer" will be happy to describe the other city's faults for you. The typical caricatures seem to go something like this: Düsseldorfer are wealthy, prissy and stuck-up, while Kölner are unrefined and have the added misfortune of living in such an ugly city. I can assure you that both descriptions verge on exaggeration. Anyway, a friend told me about a hilarious ad campaign that Früh, one of Cologne's best-known Kölsch breweries, sponsored. I checked out their website today, where they archive all of the billboards they have put up. The ads are arranged by year from 1992 to 2009, followed by a lone stand-out category: "Düsseldorf." Früh decided to run with the cities' rivalry and put up a series of ads picking on Düsseldorf's reputation, including pictures of a fresh glass of Kölsch bearing the words: "Now available in the most important villages around Cologne," or a gaudy, diamond-encrusted bottle opener declaring: "For Düsseldorf: now with an extra chic bottle opener." If you can read German, be sure to check them out. Some are pretty funny. My friend explained that Früh didn't get away with their campaign without retaliation, though. One of Düsseldorf's Alt breweries decided to put up its own billboard in Cologne: this time with glasses of its beer arranged in the shape of Cologne's world-famous landmark, its cathedral. And so the rivalry continues. |
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| 10.09.2009 |
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| While waiting around at the train station the other day, I flipped through a travel guide written for German tourists headed to the States. Check one of these out some time, if you haven't – it's always good for a chuckle to see your culture through the eyes of a curious tourist. The section on food was great in this book, complete with the typical measure of horror at the size of portions in many American restaurants (especially the sodas). A German friend of mine studied in the States and laughed as he recalled glancing at some travel guides back then, written for Americans going to Germany. His favorite line: if you're invited to a party, make sure that you come with plenty of things to complain about, otherwise people will assume you're shallow. To be sure, the guide was tongue-in-cheek, but we both agreed there's some truth to the advice. I could write a lot about the attitude the author was getting at because I think it's fundamental to the German outlook. It's not that I want to say that Germans have a fundamental affinity for complaining or negativity, but that's one side of the coin. Maybe a better way to put it would be that Germans tend toward caution – decisions are typically made slowly, deliberately and very critically. Fellow OI blogger Joel has also noted this in a lot of his entries, like in his entry on defusing bombs, which, admittedly, is an activity where some degree of caution is probably appropriate. Working in a Gymnasium (German high school) last year, I was struck by the extent to which my students already shared this attitude. Often, the teachers would use class time to host extensive discussions about the direction of the class, grading policies, or how a particular test was structured. Even the ninth graders would rouse themselves from their general apathy and sleepiness to weigh in and debate each other on how the class should be run. On the one hand, the level of input teachers expected from students was novel for me, but I also found the intensity with which they wanted to arrive at the right method of proceeding interesting. I've found that a lot of Germans joke about this tendency too – or are at least note that it exists. Of course, there are connections between Germany's post-war heritage and history and the attitude I describe. I think that's an important part of the story, especially when talking about politics. But what does all of this have to do with complaining at parties? Well, I think it's easy for "German cautiousness" to verge into pessimism. Like someone I met from Poland who now lives in Cologne said to me recently, "I like a lot about Germany, but it frustrates me sometimes that people quibble so much instead of focusing on possibilities and being open to change." Then again, the same attitude can also be a great asset for the country, and it's essential to a lot of the institutions for which Germany is renowned. I have a hard time putting my finger on it exactly, but when I'm here, I have the sense that things are generally well-administered and well-planned. The reassurance that comes with that is certainly a good thing. |
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| 31.08.2009 |
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 Many Germans love Hamburg, and that's a big reason I was excited to visit last weekend. In talking with people here about their country, I've heard Hamburg mentioned again and again as a favorite place. In some ways, this surprised me. Before living here, Hamburg wasn't really on my radar at all. When I thought about German cities, Berlin, Munich and Frankfurt came to mind, and I sense that this is probably true of a lot of other foreigners. However, when Germans talk about Berlin or Munich, I note a lot of ambivalence. Non-Berliners typically describe the city by admitting that it may be lively or very international but then proceeding to decry Berliners' arrogance or how sprawling and ugly the city can be. A friend of mine from Frankfurt went further and, against my defense of Berlin, said, "The city has a kind of kitschy-carnival quality that, of course, attracts lots of Americans and other foreigners, but ultimately it's uncivilized, unsuitable for careers, and uninteresting." A different friend from Hesse put it a little more gently and remarked, "I think that Germans tend to be secretly rather provincial at heart, and that goes some way in explaining their preference for the less international, more traditional Hamburg to Berlin." Munich and Hamburg have a certain amount in common, but Munich doesn't seem to fare as well with the general populace. Both cities have traditionally been well-off. Hamburg's harbor position led it to be a center of trade and import, while Munich has long been a major hub of business and tourism. In contrast to Hamburg, though, I've heard lots of people write Munich off as "schickimicki" – a tough word to translate. I'd say it refers to behavior that's snobby and ostentatious, especially with regard to class or money. In contrast, Hamburg has earned a reputation as a very down-to-earth city with kind, if not always openly friendly, inhabitants. I can't say much about the people in the city, since I spent the entire time with other non-Hamburgers, and after all, I was only there for two days. Although we stayed with two people who live there now, they are originally from Mainz and Paris respectively. I can say I enjoyed the city and appreciated why so many people have described it as beautiful. It is very green – depending on where you are, it's hard to believe it's the second biggest city in the country because you see trees in so many directions. We spent the afternoon on Saturday engaged in a favorite Hamburg pastime by relaxing on one of the many waterfront areas in the city. A great weekend with great hosts, but I'm not ready to give up my preference for Berlin just yet… (Above: a tree outside of the Ernst Barlach house). |
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