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Tag: Germany

E tu Germania?

Maybe it was naive, but I really thought Germany would stay immune to the rot of right-wing populism that keeps rearing its ugly head these days. When I first moved to the country, I was amazed at how well they had dealt with the evils of their past. A culture of remembrance whose credo was “never again” was present everywhere; Germans carried the burden of their crimes and fostered critical thinking, sometimes to the point of being slightly annoying (isn’t there any irrational subjectivity in this country, I’d wonder, occassionally even missing my father’s Republican rants…) Sure, Germany still had…

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Help Her, She’s Poor

Have I ever told you how much I fucking love Germany? As I watch my country be ripped apart by unbridled neo-liberal heartlessness, cynicism turned reality and sometimes downright unhinged psychosis—and yes, this makes me angry, but mostly it just breaks my heart—I appreciate my adopted country Germany all the more. Germany’s social welfare system already gave me free university. It gave me Elterngeld (parents’ money) the two years I stayed home when my daughters were small. It gave me affordable, full-time childcare which was absolutely free once my daughters turned three. It gives me 364 euros a month Kindergeld…


Schnauze, Berliner Schnauze!

If you’ve ever spent time in Berlin, there’s a pretty good chance you’ve experienced Berliner Schnauze. Berliner Schnauze (Berlin big mouth) is what locals call the direct, unfriendly attitude of native Berliners which often involves yelling at perfectly nice, well meaning strangers such as yourself who happen to be breaking zeh rulez. In the video below, I explain a little about why this happens (if such a thing can be explained), how to deal with it and what you can do to avoid it. Viel Spaß! Here’s the German phrases I mention in the video: Entschuldigung, ich wusste nicht, dass…

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Wörlitz and Lady Hamilton’s Orgy Caves

When I was in my mid-twenties, I thought the perfect life was one where all my possessions fit easily into two suitcases. I moved seven times the first six years I lived in Berlin, eight if you count the few months I stayed at a friend’s apartment after I left my first husband. I loved to move: to walk down new streets, meet new neighbors in the hall, have new experiences, surprises and sometimes disappointments. I lived cheaply and travelled as often as I could. But in 2006, I met my soon-to-be second husband. Things moved fast and I had a…

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