Disagreeing to disagree

Disagreements happen anywhere. However, they are performed and judged differently across cultures. In some public disagreement is almost a taboo while in others it is appreciated. In Germany it seems a natural part of human interaction since everybody has the right (and more often than not the need) to express their opinion openly.

I’d like to give two examples where I felt a bit awkward during the London Olympics while watching the German coverage of it. The first one happened during the opening ceremony, which I enjoyed and so did the three commentators. When the German team marched in they did not marvel about the athletes’ performances or speculate about who might go for gold.

In a not too cheerful mood they turned their attention to the matter of a medal forecast given by the National Olympic Committee. While the athletes enjoyed this very special moment the commentators had three different opinions (success is all that matters/too much pressure on the individual athlete/forecast should be modified) and felt this was the adequate moment to discuss this on the spot (quite extensively). I am sure each of them had their point. Nonetheless, I think their timing was a bit odd. 

On another occasion a heptathlete just had finished her first day of the games and was not too happy with her performance. She made no fuss about it but complained that she missed her coach who in this year was not allowed to be on the pitch. The reporter’s reaction really surprised me. He did not ask why she felt the coach would have made a difference or if she could explain to the audience what benefit this support would mean. Instead he started arguing with her saying: “Well, but the decathletes also cope without coaches.”

You could see that she still was breathing heavily after a long distance run and simply stressed. Our national hero was actually in a position to defend herself on camera. The commentator went on telling her that these were the rules and that she had to comply like everybody else. The only thing the audience can get out of such an interview is the reporter’s stance on the issue (not his job) or the impression that our athletes tend to blame others for underperforming (certainly not true).

I felt this was unnecessary friction but I guess I am alone in this one. This layer of conflict did disturb me a bit but it seems to be fine for the German public. Both examples should show that open disagreement is rarely out of place and Germans normally mean not to challenge you on a personal level. For many Germans disagreements are a part of life and simply necessary. There is less effort to avoid or attenuate open disagreement and this may appear challenging to others. For many Germans their disagreement doesn’t only mean they disagree they also feel free to speak openly with you and is a sign of trust.

GERMANY: LAND OF THE LONELY

It is statistically proven: Germans are a bunch of unsocial loners. This may not sound nice but according to a 2012 census some 16 million Germans live on their own. No family, no partner, no flat sharing with others. This equals one out of five Germans living on their own (still including children, who are very unlikely to live alone). This is not just a few lonely widows or urban singles. The census also shows that people with international backgrounds are much less likely to live on their own. This trend has a massive impact on society. 

In certain cities (including the capital) about a third of inhabitants prefer to live on their own. Well, economically speaking this seems good news. They all have their fridges, tellies, hair-dryers. Some might say that Germans are fortunate in being able to afford living on their own. For many people the idea of having this space for themselves is nothing but an unaffordable dream. 

Having said that, I am afraid this is not very good for the planet. More houses mean more heating, more stuff means more waste – you get the picture. Germans pride themselves in being a green nation, there seems to be a limit to this.

So, what does this mean for society? Many have no partner or only one they choose not to live with. There are no kids when you live on your own. These people are not used to share stuff. They may be obliged to share in public places and at work but at home? Full control over the TV seems a child’s dream come true. At home it’s all theirs. This applies not only to materialistic goods. Their memories, experiences, emotions and their little worries are all for themselves.

You might argue that they still have friends and family, people they talk to. Sure, but family is different. A partner is always there and so is family. You cannot choose to meet them or simply not answer the phone. They are there for you and you are there for them. You stick together in difficult situations. Is being alone so much fun?

Is there a cultural root to it? I learnt that Germany is right on top of the global loner list. Only in Sweden the quota is higher. Is this a Germanic thing? Is this a side-effect of affluent societies? I would argue that these people are not all happy (which also counts for people living with others). Dating agencies seem to prosper and advertise heavily in all German media.

It surely shows that elderly Germans treasure their independence and are able to live on their own. I cannot judge if they may prefer to live differently but the figures are clear. It also shows that women (there is no real statistical gender difference on this matter) are fully independent. This should be welcomed. They seem to do fine and it is up to them to decide in what kind of relationship they want to engage. 

Maybe I am an old-fashioned romantic but the idea of having a society full of super-independent individuals doesn’t really appeal to me. I’d even raise the question if it is worth living in it. My concept of society is not a bunch of singles living “their way” having only to consult their wallets before doing things. Am I overreacting in saying that there is a point where independence ends and the inability of connecting with others starts? I believe that your mindset is shaped by your environment. In this light I think the rising number of people living alone is not an achievement but rather a sign of incapacity.

DRINKA PINTA MILK FOREVER

The pint is the single most British thing I could think of. Nowadays the metric system seems to have developed into a global standard but the UK is known to be the last stronghold of other measurements. Brits manage successfully to keep this weird metres and litres at bay.

Representing this other way of British measuring is the pint (some 0.57 litres). You get milk in pints and even more importantly pubs serve in pints or half-pints. Getting half a litre in a pub is something unheard of. Litres must have been so alien to the English-speaking world that they still are not sure on how to write it; litre or liter?

Another quintessentially British unit is the stone used for measuring body weight (1 stone equals 6.35 kg). Brits would usually tell their weight in stone and then convert it in kilos. They tend to look a bit exerted during the exercise but I guess this is just for show. While kilos are a bit abstract and technical a stone sounds heavy and brings a picture to your mind. It feels that large parts of the British population took up the fight against the extinction of the stone unit. Their solution is to put on weight and thus help many stones to live happy lifes.

Credit: http://tinyurl.com/7lsmgfh

When the British expanded their Empire over the globe they also brought along their measurement units. Counting distances in miles and feet are the only units of measurements which I know of that seem to have stayed over time. Actually I really like feet. If you are fortunate enough to climb Ben Nevis you’ll be much prouder when you mastered an altitude of staggering 4,409 ft rather than just 1,344 metres. Note that the BBC runs websites where you have the honour to convert distances measured in mundane metres into the grand ‘Imperial’ system.

Another example of two systems that run parallel is the Fahrenheit and Celcius scales used for temperature. You may choose your favourite and this will pretty much depend on where you grew up. The BBC has been forecasting the temperature in Celcius for some 20 years but would add practically always “this means in Fahrenheit...”. After more than two decades the British public (or the BBC?) is not ready for this dramatic change in their news coverage. The typical British response would be that „we’re just too stubborn“. I’m not so sure if this is stubbornness or just a working system. If it ain’t broken don’t fix it. Could it be a romantic reminder of the Empire? A statement towards Europe and EU efforts to standardise everything? Maybe it's just treasuring old traditions and cultural heritage.

Tourists and business travellers shouldn’t mind this too much. I guess it should not be too surprising that in other countries some things work differently. Besides discovering new stuff might be fun.

GRAB WHAT YOU WANT AND LEAVE THE MONEY SOMEWHERE

This article tells about a peculiarity I haven’t encountered outside of Germany. It shows the high level of trust Germans have in social order. Farmers sell their products on the field or in sheds next to streets where you just take what you want and are trusted to leave the right amount of money. There will be nobody charging you. Untipically for Germany there will be nobody to control you. This is a quite common way of selling flowers (selbst schneiden, selbst zahlen) and produce such as potatoes, honey, eggs or pumpkins.

Credit: http://tinyurl.com/6q3v26k

The idea is simple: you cut the flowers you want and pay the respective price. There is a box and a price list, that’s all you need. In some places templates allow you to measure for example flowers and then pay according to size.

Farmers even provide knifes and place them next to the cash box (you can see this on the picture). I show this regularly to visiting friends and we always have the feeling that the money, flowers and the knifes wouldn’t make it for longer than a few days in many other countries.

In some places farmers decided to leave the box open so you can just help yourself when you need some change. I love this kind of shopping and am sometimes surprised to find some 30 odd Euros in these boxes. Farmers seem not to be afraid that some drunk or youth might take advantage of their faith in people.

In Munich you will encounter this business model even in the city centre. There it works with newspapers. You find baskets for each of the common newspapers and you just grab one and put a coin in the respective box.

Credit: http://tinyurl.com/7mjap56

So, are all Germans so honest/nice/stupid/well-educated/trustworthy/not clever enough to pay? According to German newspaper FAZ over 80% of customers pay honestly the proposed full price in that sort of business (http://bit.ly/OnmE00). Munich’s newspaper boxes seem to be an exception though. This sort of concept had to be abandoned in cities like Berlin or Frankfurt.

Let it all Go – the German Way

After a few busy weeks at work my wife and I wanted a short break and went to the German coast for a weekend. We just wanted to relax a bit and not worry about anything. It worked out - but in a quintessentially German manner.

It started when we checked in and got a thorough tourist introduction with a level of detail I did not expect. The hotel manager asked us at what time we wanted breakfast and wrote it down on his list. He then asked how we wanted our eggs (soft, medium, hard) and also noted our answer. Also the obligatory question ‘tea or coffee’ was asked and the answer recorded. We were informed that the next day we would sit at table number seven. It’s not that I have had restless nights wondering where to sit the next morning but I guess it doesn’t hurt to know this in advance.

It took me a full day to understand the exercise. The following morning table number seven awaited us with a kettle of tea on it and two medium eggs (as medium as it can get). We also had an info sheet regarding the day’s weather. Again the level of detail struck me. Divided into three hour slots it showed: temperature, humidity, chance of rain (and expected amount), chance of thunder storms, wind speeds and air pressure. A final info told us dusk and dawn.

In fact I got a glimpse of all that accuracy when booking the place. They had prices for single and double rooms and for dogs. However, small dogs will cost 1.50 € and big ones 2.50 € (excuse my bad research but I cannot explain when a dog is regarded as big by hotel standards).

We got all the ‘essential’ tourist information which included: a tourist card and a tides calendar that told us the tidal movement with high and low water for the whole year by the minute. This made sense to me. The Wattenmeer is famous for its extreme tidal movements and you don’t want to be ‘surprised’ by high tide when wading in the mud some 2 km off the shore.

The “Büsum at a grasp” guide informed about everybody who might help you in whatever could possibly happen to you. The usual suspects were: police, fire brigade, coast guard and local hospitals. I could make sense of having the local dentist, pharmacies and possibly the ‘poisoning emergency number’ (the institution was located some 300 km away). Why it also provided the numbers of the local town hall as an emergency number I could not get. Further, a heating emergency unit and hotlines for issues with electricity, gas, sanitary instalations, water and electric equipment were listed. There must be a firm belief that this list would be at hand in the moment of mischief and that the listed party would always be available.

I also was surprised when we went to the town’s beach. Note that the community owns this patch on the dyke and charge tourists a small contribution unless you stay in a local hotel (that issues tourist cards for their guests). There was a parking space for bikes because apparently no bikes were allowed on the beach. Dogs on the other hand are fine and there was a part reserved for people with dogs (size not specified). 

- Büsum Norddeich Beach -

The beach area was well designed and a feast for the eye for any organised person. The area served a building offering toilets, changing rooms and a baby change. Exactly every 200 m you had a staircase going into the water. Every 50 m was a dust bin and every 100 m a shower. Every 500 m you could rest on a bench. On the entrance a board with rules explained you what to do in order to fully relax.

This all may be written tongue in cheek. But I really have to say that I felt very comfortable and enjoyed the weekend very much. The place was totally quiet, everybody respected the other’s place and in two days one single plastic cup on the sea bed was the only visible contamination. There seem to be two ways to relax. You can just go with the flow and live for the moment or do it the Büsum way and have everything organised and settled in advance.

Sunday Bloody Sunday

Sundays are nice. You normally have a day off and there seem to be no limits on what to do with your free time. Unless you happen to live in Germany where rules apply.

Your small shop around the corner will be closed. No barber, no bank, no baker, no butcher will serve you. It’s an annoying inconvenience if you happen to run out of milk or some friends show up unexpectedly. OK, let’s give small shop owners a break. But supermarkets are closed too. Whole shopping malls won’t open and high street is deserted. If you couldn’t do your groceries on Saturday or after work you’re in trouble.

So why this limitation? Germany’s “Ladenschlußgesetz” (shop closing law) is the simple answer. It tells you exactly when shops are allowed to open and when not. For Sundays the rules are almost straight forward. Basically everything has to be closed on the day of Lord – except confectioneries. You see, German law makers are human after all and know that you cannot survive a Sunday without a decent piece of cake. Many bakeries tend to have pastries and cakes. So they can open but won’t be allowed to sell bread.

When you’re craving for a cake please keep in mind that confectioneries can only open from 10 am to 5 pm for up to three hours. In a weak moment German lawmakers failed to pin this down more narrowly. If you need some flowers with the cake 10 am to noon is the time to get them.

There is however a loophole. Most gas stations are open virtually 24/7 and developed into considerable convenience stores and Germans appear to appreciate this. Also shops located in train stations or airports open on Sundays. Prices will however be considerably higher than in normal shops and your range of choice will also be limited.

I can handle doing my groceries during the week (although supermarkets are packed with grumpy Germans buying stuff after work and on Saturdays). It’s just that cities appear to be ghost towns on Sundays. There is literally no one on the street. You don’t feel like exploring another city as a tourist when it seems to be abandoned. Apart from a few restaurants everything else is simply closed. Public live in city centres virtually seizes This can really fell depressing. Besides, cities are not just about buildings. It’s their inhabitants and the life and atmosphere they create.

Having said all that, I discovered that mountains, forests and lakes do no close on Sundays and offer a wide range of activities for a lovely Sunday. Just don’t count too much on public transport then.

Colleagues and Cakes

In order to survive in an office environment you must play by its rules. Some are obvious others aren’t. To master German office politics you should know the cake rule.

Yes, cakes are key. In Germany there is the cake rule and you better know about it. There is one fundamental difference between Germany and the rest of the world when it comes to birthdays in the office. There is some sort of global understanding that your colleagues organise a cake and show up at your place. The Germans have a different approach. In Germany you are expected to bake a cake for your birthday and share it with all your colleagues. If you’re lucky you might get a birthday card in return. Please send an email to the whole team; otherwise they won’t remember that it’s your big day. E-mail is the medium of choice. This ensures you reach all those you never talk to during the year.

There are other occasions when you should bring a cake. You start your career with a cake. Joining the team you welcome everybody with a cake. This “Einstand” is highly recommendable. It is a rare chance to have a bit of small talk with your team mates. You also should bring along a cake when you get married, while a divorce is still for free. Child birth also calls for a cake. It goes without saying that when leaving the team they expect some cake that helps them coping with loss and sorrow.

Note that the prime reason they visit your office is the cake (or was it the occasion you celebrate?). Many of your treasured colleagues won’t be bothered to eat it in your presence. Some might while others will be just “too busy” and take a bit junk of your cake and eat it at their desks. Don’t take this personal! The idea was to distribute cake and no merry gathering just because you have a reason to celebrate and went through all the trouble to cater food for thirty people. 

By the way: don’t be tempted to bring deep-frozen stuff. This is frowned upon and you can be sure that they’ll spot it. Bake your own one or better two or three. If your county’s cuisine is regarded as exotic please don’t be troubled to show them all its riches. Some will not appreciate this sort of treat and show it rather openly. Be aware that colleagues appear to not have eaten for days and happily eat two or three pieces. If it’s not enough for all the gluttons won’t have the blame. Stingy you!

However, look at the bright side: Germans love to separate their private from professional life. So your cake might be the perfect bait to lure them into small talk and to a conversation on a different level. Besides, apart from all these oddities birthdays in the office can still be really nice.

Media Credibility in Crisis?

This is serious! German media is going mental about it. It concerns the Eurocup game between Germany and the Netherlands. So, what is causing all this noise? The team’s performace? Nope. The two great goals by Gomez? Guess again. The Pitch? Political Issues? Neighbourhood rivalry? The referee? All this doesn’t matter. 

What does matter is this scene: http://tiny.cc/d8yzfw. Germany’s team manager Jogi Löw is mocking one of these lads that cater spare footballs for the players if they kick it off the pitch. The ball boy held the ball and Jogi pushed it out of his grasp. Good for “Bundesjogi” that nobody perceived this little innocent prank as bullying. This was fine. 

The outrageous thing was that this was shown during the live coverage of the game as if it had been live. But this happened during the warm up period and was recorded. The German media is at one: this is fraud, a true scandal that damages the credibility of media coverage as a whole. Headlines and commentators set their priorities and discussed this and left minor issues such as climate change, Euro crisis and human rights aside.

I think this is going too far. They did not show a fake goal or suggesting a substitute to come in that wouldn’t. It even happened on the same day! This scene was broadcasted just half an hour later to brighten up an otherwise dull interruption of the match. Am I just naïve? They also didn’t show a streaker when Croatia met Ireland. This is something we all need to see. This is the core of sports coverage and should be the ultimate label of credibility. German media even used the term censorship in this context.

This reasoning does not make a lot of sense to me. It can only be explained with the unshakable German notion that there is only one truth. One sole truth with no grey area surrounding it. Nothing can be kind of true. Black is black and white is white. It’s like when you arrive on 7:03 when you said you’d be there at 7 - you’re just late. 

Things have to work properly and there is only one proper way. No need to mention that this would have never happened in Germany. Why do something because its fun if it is not true? I guess this is why many Germans earned their fame as pedantic, little flexible and humourless people. I have sympathy for the idea that media has a lot of responsibility and must live up to it. But live coverage of streakers and ball boys is not necessarily at its core. Do we really have to discuss everything seriously? Always? As a matter of principle? I don’t think so.

The Loud Ladies and the Grumpy Guy

This incident happened on a train in Germany. I was on the ICE when a group of four women entered it. They were in a really good mood (a rare sight in Germany) and chatting and laughing along. This was not received well in the train.

They took their seats and kept on talking, having fun and were giggling and laughing all the way. It took less than five minutes until these Loud Ladies were challenged. A man sitting next to the four women downright scolded them in a loud and stern voice. He told them to be quiet because this is the Ruhezone. The Ruhezone is a designated quiet zone in the train for all those who prefer to travel in silence. Angrily he asked how on earth they could not have read the sign in the entrance. The Grumpy Guy went even further suggesting that the Loud Ladies should learn how to read.

I also was no longer able to continue reading my book. It wasn’t because of the noise but rather because of this situation. I simply couldn’t understand what was going on. How could the Grumpy Guy be so rude? Or wasn’t he? Were the Loud Ladies the rude ones?

There are three things I can’t get my head around. Can human laughter be out of place at all? Was it the women’s obligation to read the Ruhezone sign and act in a “proper way”? Had the Grumpy Guy any right in telling the Loud Ladies off so crudely?

So do we have to “endure” the good mood of others? A train after all is a public place and you cannot expect people to behave just the way you’d like. You sit close to others and overhear lousy jokes and stories you’d prefer not to hear. If you can’t stay the heat stay out of the kitchen they say. So if you can’t stand other people avoid public transport I’d say. 

Maybe the Loud Ladies were just inconsiderate and rude. They behaved like stereotypical teenagers not caring about anything else than their peers. The women were definitely noisy while all others in this part of the train were silent or talking in a low voice. Surely they should have noticed that. But on the other hand they’d just been on the train for a few minutes. They were not shouting and singing for hours. 

Was it the women’s fault to not check first if they are allowed to have fun? The logic that you have to be quiet in a quiet zone is impeccable. But can’t you even talk? Laugh? Can you book your right to read in peace on a train by reserving a seat in the quiet zone? Many people just sit wherever there is a vacant seat. 

I also happened to be in the Ruhezone without intention. My reservation was for waggon number two not for a seat in the quiet zone. I only noticed that after the Grumpy Guy reminded us all of it. There may be a German sense of duty he was referring to. You have to know all the possible rules and just not having read a sign is not to be tolerated. This is a bit harsh I guess.

I really thought the man to be very rude. But was he totally wrong? He did not only defend his values but seemed to feel responsible for the order in the train. He served as a quasi official protector of all the others who he thought would “suffer” from the Ladies’ good mood. 

I didn’t mind that he asked the women to calm down but felt his aggressive tone and insulting remark were out of place. I also felt sorry for the Ladies. Why can’t they just have good time? And I started worrying about the others on the train. Did they also suffer the impertinence of our jolly company?

The atmosphere stayed tense. The women kept on chatting and every few minutes they hushed the loudest of the group, which for them seemed to be the best joke ever. I didn’t mind their noise at all. I was too busy thinking about this whole situation. 

So, how did the story end? After half an hour the Grumpy Guy couldn’t stand it any longer and went to another waggon. After he left I felt somehow less tense and continued reading.