It’s the German in me

It’s the German in me

I’ve always felt a little off living in the U.S. and never could quite understand what I was missing. I never liked the same type of music everyone else did. Sure, there were some things I liked that were the same. Mostly the popular stuff, but I would dig deeper and find unique and interesting things that weren’t “normal” to the part of the country that I was living in.

I ate differently. People would always talk about all these restaurants. I hadn’t been to any of them! I didn’t even know there were that many around! My mom cooked every day of the week except for Friday, leftover night. And Saturday, take out night (which was usually fast food). Occasionally we went out to eat at a sit down restaurant on Sundays if someone had a birthday or if we had visitors, but that was it. I didn’t know there were 10 different types of chicken places to try. And when someone tried to take me to a “German” restaurant and I didn’t like any of the food. They would be so mad. Why didn’t I like the food? It was the stuff I always talked about. And I would think…this stuff isn’t German. This stuff is crap!

My friends loved my mom. Any time they stayed over they would leave with more than what they came with. My mom would always have “goodies” in the house. Too much for us to eat. She still does. Anytime I talk about friends and their families she still gives stuff for me to give to their kids. Gummies, treats, apples it really didn’t matter. Whatever she could find to give to them to take home.


Kaub, Germany 2010

This trait really struck me the other day. I never noticed, but I do this now with people. I don’t necessarily give people goodie bags when they come over, but I make sure people have things. I take care of them. I want to make sure they are fed. I used to think this was strange, but I really just think this is something that all German’s do to people that they care about. It’s how they show that they care. German’s are known for not showing much emotion. Lord knows that the most emotion I got growing up was yelled at. (Sorry, mom!) But I never went without. My friends never went without. Nor my neighbors.

I know growing up, I picked this up. And I know for damn sure that people have used me for it, too. There was a time I would get SOOOO angry when I didn’t see it until it was too late. But now…I don’t know. I just think, I would rather be the kind of person that gives and cares about people then doesn’t. If that shows too much of my “German-side” who cares. I would rather be too kind than too mean or too shallow or too…whatever. It’s taken me a few years to figure that out, but I’m glad that I did.

Auf Wiedersehen!