Alice in Germany

The Aasee frozen at sunset

When I first moved to Kirchenstadt I did not think I would be able to stand it. I always viewed myself as a city girl and I was not sure I would be able to adjust to the quieter life. Sure it has its benefits: clean air, beautiful parks, peacefulness and all that stuff. But were they not outweighed by the cons? Conformity enforced by people whose bored gossip breed fear and stifled difference?

At least that had always been my negative view of towns and I should know I grew up in one.

But what I did not know is that ‘towns’ in Germany are nothing like towns in Australia.

To start with Kirchenstadt was never really a town. Small in geography maybe but not in population. Germans seem to have embraced apartment living where Australians are only just beginning. What looks like a (three storey) family house from the outside could actually be housing three different households, and being a university city Kirchenstadt crams students in to every available corner. Weekends would bring out pedestrians in numbers where special traffic lights just to direct the pedestrians would not have been wasted.


Then there is geography. Australian towns, radiating out from the centre into great farms, are not only small in terms of population but huge in terms of geography. It can be hundreds of kilometres from one (half decent sized) town to the next.

The initial apparent total lack of foreigners in Kirchenstadt also made me feel very out of place.

But when I started taking German lessons the city opened up to me and I met more people from more corners of the globe than I could have dreamed of at home.

My German classes were an interesting eclectic mix and as I took them everyday they became a large part of my life. I miss every one on my class mates.

The sporadic ringing of mobile phones and embarrassed (or proud) giggles as the culprit ran out of the room. Kamchana’s (Thailand) habitual prancing out of the class on her high heels, swishing her long hair out of her face to announce she ‘musst pipi machen’. Amaz’s (Ethiopia), German exclamation: ‘ach so!’ which she used regularly to try and hide the fact she had absolutely no idea what was being said to her. Paolo’s (Portugal) geography lessons; in particular how the sea became salty! Sherena’s (Georgia) tourette’s style yelling of random German words every time a question was asked of the class.

And of course Edward (English – old Cambridge lecturer), not only his inability to stop speaking English but his difficulty comprehending that the class was there to learn German. I still laugh when I think of him transcribing the ‘Oxford English Dictionary’ definition of ‘freedom’ and ‘liberty’ onto the board. And then going on to explain the difference, entirely in English, to a sea of blank, uncomprehending, faces all staring in confusion (non more so than our teacher!) – except for Amaz who dutifully copied everything down whilst exclaiming ‘ach so … ach so’ at regular intervals.

I miss them all! Somehow Kirchenstadt with all its disgustingly boring middle class respectability has developed that feel of comforting familiarity and security.

Sure towns in Germany are nothing like towns in Australia, but that doesn’t stop me pretending to know everybody when I come running back into Bruno’s arms on weekends. It doesn’t stop me pretending to say ‘hey’ to everyone: ‘hey fellow commuters, hey Doner guy, hey Mr. Bus Driver’. Just want some of that small town feel, ya know what I mean?


Karneval 2006: nothing but class!