Can an American be a German?

Every American has probably been asked at some point, "What does it mean to be an American?" and the answer seems obvious enough.  I was asked this question just over the summer in a pre-departure assignment for CBYX/PPP.  It may come as no surprised to hear that it is proven people who live or study abroad learn more about their own culture than they ever would have otherwise.  Sometimes I feel very American, like I'm carrying a nationality sign around my neck.  Sometimes this is caused by my attire, especially when it rains and I'm wearing a brightly colored rain coat, rain boots and am the only person holding an umbrella that is not blue or black (mine is pink paisley).  Other times I find myself in the midst of Germans and wonder if my American-ness is obvious.  Last Tuesday, CASA hosted an American Evening for my group and we made American recipes, sang American songs and shared some of our comical misunderstandings.  During such times I often wonder, can I look like a German?  Could I be "German?"  What would it take?

These thoughts inevitably lead me to wonder when I will feel a part of the German society.  I can't really say what I think it will take for me to "be" German, and sometimes I'm still surprised that I'm even here. When I got here I imagine I oozed America like a shiny new penny.  With a month of experience under my belt, though, certain things have dissipated, but there are still other things I can't help but be partial to the American way, such as having lots of salads for lunch or something besides bread and marmalade for breakfast.  Or how our vanilla flavoring comes in convenient little bottles that are easy to pour, as opposed to the minuscule vials in Germany that refuse to release their contents in any amount that is anywhere close to how much I want to use.  I also haven't driven a car since July 26th and since then I can count on one hand how many times I've been in a car.  It is little things like that that remind me of my nationality.  I've always been a proponent of trying to be less ethno-centric, but I now remember that it is a different thing to be fond of and miss some little comforts from home, such as kitchens that hold more than 2 people, and being truly closed to other cultures.

Nevertheless, the adjustment is already well underway. For example, my first few days here I was constantly afraid the cars would hit the tram because the tram cuts right through the lanes of traffic.  The first couple of days I was convinced each and every car was inches from hitting the tram right where I was sitting.  I can confidentially say that this is no longer a daily fear. :)

To be perfectly honest, I have been slightly surprised about what gives me the feeling of "Yeah, I am supposed to be here."  The groundbreaking moment was a couple of Saturdays ago when I went with some friends to a Werder Bremen game, the beloved soccer team of Bremen.  My group of fellow PPPlers and I arrived at the game early to get tickets and in hopes of finding seats in the "Ost Kurve," or East Curve.  The East Curve is where all the big Werder fans stand, rally the other fans and generally try to intimidate the other team.  We did not get Ost Kurve seats, but we did get some spectacular seats in the West Kurve.  As we sat down, I looked around, found the Freiburg fans closed off in the "enemy section" and saw all the enthusiastic and excited Werder fans.  At that moment I realized I had something in common with almost every single person in the stadium--The simple wish that Werder would play a good game and even win.  I realized then something many foreigners before me have probably realized:  Sports have a powerful ability to bring people together, even across cultural borders.  Watching the game, besides being full of action and eight collective goals, was entirely satisfying and enjoyable.  It was my first moment of realizing that, yes, one day I may feel like a part of the German and Bremen culture.

That evening, Japanese students arrived to CASA, my language school.  My host family is hosting one and I had dinner with them and the student, Kazuki.  Within five minutes of meeting Kazuki, my host parents and I realized he knows little English and even less German.  I became his translator and through this, I realized that the best boast in confidence for a language learner is to live with someone who knows even less than you.  This sounds a bit heartless, but it certainly served to strengthen a growing idea: At some point in the year I will feel a part of the community.  For the first time, I had the indisputable feeling that learning German is something that I can actually achieve.

My friends and I have commented multiple times that sometimes we feel like a herd of sheep who are lost without our CASA shepherds.  More and more I find that I need my CASA shepherds less because I am slowly finding guidance in other facets, such as our speaking tandem partners that we met last week and my host parents, with whom I can speak more and more with.  I have even met a few of the other host parents and they have also proven to be extremely generous and helpful.  With the help of several different Germans I even succeeded in making a completely American birthday cake recipe using the metric system, no measuring spoons or cups and up until the last moment, no baking powder.  And just today I braved the previously unknown world of European Haircuts and went, all by my big-girl self, to get a haircut.  Forty-five minutes later, I left the salon sporting a slightly shorter hairstyle that still looked remarkably "me" and thankfully not a bit like some of the scarier haircuts I have come across. :)

I can only describe living in a foreign country as like being in a roller coaster.  Today attempting to get a haircut was like going up then down one of the smaller drops that, even though they're not particularly high, have a spectacular drop and add to the fun of a really great roller coaster.  More and more I find that things in Germany replace the little things that I didn't expect to miss from home and sometimes when I walk around Bremen I can convince myself that I look German.  Even so, I cannot currently answer my own question.  The jury is still out on whether an American can be quasi- or fully-German, but if the adaptation of the last  month is any indication, I think I can get used to living here.