The time has come (the walrus said) for me to write about something that's been brewing on my mind: diversity in German culture. I've never lived in a homogenous country before, and most of my schooling has been conducted in that most melting pot of places: American public schools. I've had friends among every stripe, brand, and creed. But here in Germany, I'm honestly shocked how surprised I am to see a black child in a group of blonde-and-blue-eyed German schoolchildren, or an Indian or Asian person outside of Marienplatz and the tourist area.
It's not a very handicapped-friendly. The escalators on the U-Bahn (which get you out of the U-Bahn platforms and out into the real world) frequently break down, and I have to see old, crippled people hobbling up the stairs or men pick up the stollers as the wife takes the baby. There are lifts, but not near every exit, which means, if you had to take the lift, you might end up several blocks away from your desired destination. As a result, I have decided not to use the escalators unless I feel burdened, because I am abled-bodied for the most part, hindered only by a tendency toward clumsiness, and am perfectly capable of walking up and down the stairs. I would prefer to free the escalator use for others who need it more. This does not seem to be a recurring thought in many of my fellow U-Bahn Fahrgäste's heads. But I march up the stairs triumphantly and pride myself on principle.
My dorm? Laden with thick doors I find requiring most of my strength to open. To get to my door, I must go through 5 doors such as these. There are elevators--on the landings between every other floor. So if you want to travel to say, the 6th floor, you'll end up on the landing, looking at the stairs that go up to the 6th floor and looking down at the stairs that go to the 5th floor. The elevator doesn't start at the Erdgeschoss, on the ground floor, it starts between the Erdgeschoss and the 1st floor. Doesn't that render elevators usless? Or at least much more cumbersome? Grünes Haus is a little different in this respect, as it does have elevators on every floor (being some 15 stories high), but one still faces the issue of gigantic, heavy doors that can't be opened feasibly by someone in a wheelchair. At Trinity, almost every major door has to have a wheelchair button. I mean, maybe except classroom doors, but that's it. I seldom see any activism for Germans with disabilities. I presume they must rely very heavily on their families for support. I have been in establishments with stairs (and they make it accessible for people with strollers, but not people in wheelchairs) and have personally watched someone in a wheelchair wait outside while their friend goes inside to get something for them.
Tag der Arbeit (1. Mai)
Today is a holiday--Tag der Arbeit, also the Maibaumfest, or May Pole celebration. Today I was around in Marienplatz, and also walking around my latest discovery, a little place called Karlsplatz, which I'm also quite fond of. There's something about Karlsplatz--I can't quite put my finger on it, but something about it endears me. But the other day, I was in Karsplatz and was crossing the street, and a truck on the street was actually trying to get through before the pedestrians crossed. There was . . . honking. And a general antagonism in the air--and I felt. What was I feeling? I asked myself. A feeling of comfort. Surprise washed over me as I realized that I was reminded of home. That I liked this feeling, that I wasn't living in a perfect, Stepford-like-cars-stopping-on-a-dime-when-is-it-my-turn-to-be-implicated-for-a-teeny-infraction society.
So, Marienplatz was occupied by the usual throngs of tourists. I passed a group of Italians on a tour, I noted by their little Italian flags on the brochures they carried, how very interesting. I walked down further several blocks, took photos of Frauenkirche, and enjoyed the nice weather. About 15 minutes later as I was approaching a movie theater to see its offerings (I have a burning desire to see 17 Again, which I wouldn't pay a cent to see in theaters at home, but now I'm craving American happy endings and comedies and silliness), a man approached me and asked, "Italiano?" "Nein," I replied with a shake of my head. "Deutsch und English." He shook his head. I switched over to English, and said, "Italians back this way, a group," I thought about using the word mafia or familia but decided against it. Poor guy. Sucks when no one else outside your home country speaks your language. Very glad I am not in that situation.
I was shocked (I'm frequently shocked) to see how many stores were closed! Pretty much everything except restaurants and cafes were closed. Hugendubel, the major bookstore, was closed, all the major clothing stores. . . everything.
I'm sorry. I'm American. We don't believe in holidays.
What we also believe in is credit cards. I tried to paid for my Monatskarte with a credit card the other day (it is 38 euros, after all), and they were like, "Oh, nope, only Bargeld," or cold hard cash. OK. I'll be the very first person to admit we Americans are addicted to those things, and I think Germans see it as, "no cash, no pay," i.e., you don't have the money in the bank, you don't buy it. This is a worthy perspective, indeed. But credit cards can be followed, and credit cards are far safer than cash, and it's just good to have a credit card. Presuming one lives in a society that accepts them.
Then I went over to Marienplatz (my need for cash being largely the reason I went over there) to withdraw some cash, and went to the MVG (Münchner Verkehrsgesellschaft) station to ask to buy my Monatskarte, since I now had enough money. Oh, no, the lady said, you need to go over to the station over there. But I only have money--I don't have the BahnKarte that you need to pay with it (yes, my friend--there are two kiosks. One is an automated kiosk that sells Zeitkarten, like 3-day cards, single tickets, one-day cards, and it takes cash. Then there's a more complicated machine that does sell Wochen- and Monats- tickets, but it only takes the BahnKarte, which you have to reload. With what, I don't know.). She said, oh, well, if you only have money you need to go Hauptbahnhof. I just looked at her and was like, "Five brownie points to you for defending a stupid, inconvienent system."
In other exciting news, a nearly toothless middle-aged German man approached me in Marienplatz as I was taking a photo of the Rathaus and said he could take a photo of me. I was like, "yeah. Right." I'm not sure what was winning out in his head, my body or my camera.
Photo: McDonald's at Karlsplatz, in the Latin , Russian, and Arabic alphabets, where all creeds come together under the auspices of the Big Mac.
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