When all is said and done

Yesterday I had a wonderful afternoon with a German friend bumming around Olympiapark. The last two days have been beautiful weather. I wanted to go up Olympiaturm, the Olympic tower, and take one last good look at the Alps--the weather was perfect for it, not a cloud in the sky, clear horizon.

It's been a weekend of Abschiedpartys (farewell parties) and packing--insane amounts of packing. I'm quite proud of myself. I need to do several loads of laundry and dutifully was there when the Getränksverkauf was open so that I could buy my Waschenmarken--otherwise I would have to wait until tomorrow evening, and that wouldn't be good. I fly out Thursday in the Insane Hours of the Morning and Wednesday is my Wrapping Things Up Day.

I'm quite shocked how much Germany has grown on me. Living in an essentially socialist society has been very enlightening for me. I wouldn't ever prefer it to the rough-and-tumble unchecked individualism of the United States, I don't think, but I can see how it appeals. (Here is a very interesting article that appeared in The New York Times Magazine which does a good job of explaining a European socialist country, and has remarkable similiarites to what I have observed here in München. Going Dutch: How I Learned to Love the European Welfare State) People here would never go so far as American niceness, but they do care about each other to some degree, as long as it does not interfere with the lives of others. Though Germany, in my opinion, lacks what I would call universal standard handicapped access, there is never a lack of hands to pull a person in a wheelchair over the steps into a store, to open a door for a woman on crutches, to call the ambulance when someone needs it. It is hardwired into small children (I have seen this collective cultural training in action) to always mind that your own things never interfere with someone else's business. When I think of something really American that would rise the collective German ire, I think of things like huge automobiles and double parking--Americans are not very respectful of another's literal and metaphorical space--probably because we have had the luxury of not having to be. But Germans are very aware where that line between You and Me is and everyone does what they can to preserve the sanctity of that line.

But socialism, for all its wonders, continuously hinges on a lot of factors that don't always coordinate nicely together: payers-in and payers-out of the system. Germany, for all its Kindergeld (the monies new parents receive per child from the government) efforts, is still growing older, and every year 100,000 immigrants come into the country. Socialism also makes what I think can be a disasterous mistake of assuming homogeneity, and can make it very difficult for outsiders to integrate into the culture and the system. These thoughts aren't clear at all, but I feel like in America it's way easier for foreigners to integrate, partly because we aren't assuming that we're all playing by the same rules that socialism demands.

I'm packing up (moving countries is no easy feat), and the room is slowly gaining some sense of Ordnung. Tomorrow will be my last full day in Germany, and I will get up at an Ungodly Hour on Thursday to catch my 7AM flight to Paris, Paris--Houston, Houston--my hometown. In Paris I will be subjected to the mandatory taking alllll my liquids out, practically undressing, and taking my laptop out and taking my shoes off while clutching to my passport and boarding pass for dear life, or, the ritual we call "Security." Oh, so it goes.

Today the JYM group flight left, taking a good chunk of the students with them. I'm trying to keep my spirits up. I'm ready to go back, I've had this adventure and feel even more emboldened to go on to new ones (after navigating daily life in a second language, everything else pales in comparsion! No more having to look up vocabularly words and explain in cumbersome, 7-year-old German what you're after). I've had quite a few San Antonio deja-vu moments, and it shocks me to think I will return to Trinity. But I'm also sad and sentimental about the time here. I think back to my arrival and I realize I didn't even know what I was in for at all, and I'm amazed how well I did, and that I did this at all.

Thanks for all your generous love and thanks for all the fun
Neither you nor I are to blame, when all is said and done. --ABBA

Photo: Lion of Bavaria holding shield which you rub for luck (glück), Odeonsplatz.