deutschland detox

our German forest (just outside our front door!), taken by our dear friend, Cara Yoder Matzen

It's Thanksgiving, and I have so much to be grateful for.

We've been home for almost three months now, and it's striking what sticks out as being different in the States.

When we got to Germany, we were blown away by the antiquated practices that didn't allow us to use credit cards and required us to fill out paperwork for the air we breathed (almost). People expected face-to-face meetings to get things done, and handwritten notes were the norm. Our fridge was so tiny, it made minibar fridges look spacious, and our kitchen had no oven and fit one person comfortably. So, we had to go grocery shopping every day or two, and we ate simply.

But we got used to life there and embraced the slowness and simplicity of it, and now, I'd say life in the US is easier and more convenient but not necessarily better. Yes, I spent three hours a day taking my daughter to and from school using the public bus, but I got to read a lot of books. And we didn't have a ton of friends or any family around, but we spent a lot of nice family time together. And most importantly, we had hardly any stuff, and our lives were really simple. We had a mostly white flat (with wood floors), and it felt more spacious and open than our current house, which is larger but cluttered with too much stuff.

Now, if I go to a regular grocery store, I'm overwhelmed by fifty different shampoo or cereal options. In Germany, there were usually a handful of choices, which offered enough variety for us. Consumerism is a LOT stronger here. Americans have more stuff, and we're encouraged to keep on buying more/newer/better of everything. (Hello, Black Friday and Cyber Monday and every other promotion to get us to buy more.) Which leads to more stuff. You see the problem.

In Germany, I basically wore jeans and a black shirt/sweater. I added color with scarves and bright socks hidden inside my black boots. I never had to think about clothes and got to have something in common with Barack Obama, Steve Jobs, and Mark Zuckerberg. Wearing the same "uniform" every day frees our brains from decision fatigue and allows us to think about potentially more important things than fashion.

Back at home, I am surrounded by decades of clothes and accessories, and it's not even 80-20. It's more like I wear 5% of what I have, and I've already donated a ton of it. I read Marie Kondo's books, The Life-Changing Magic of Tidying Up and Spark Joy, and both were wonderful. The basic premise is that if you can let go of all of that clutter/STUFF that isn't serving you, you'll make peace with your past. Pretty powerful, no? She says it can take six months to truly clear out the old, so I'm comforted that I'm still "on schedule." (Type A? No, of course not...)

But the craziest change I'm discovering is that the German mentality rubbed off on me, and I find myself thinking and saying things that are laughably German. I carry groceries in my arms if I don't have too much and park a lot farther from my destination than I used to-- unthinkable for California's driving culture, but it feels normal now. My daughters and I now say "ow-ah" for a booboo or ouchie because that was how the Deutschies pronounced it. I wear the same things over and over again and ignore everything else. (Which means I should get rid of it. I know.) And we don't do as much. And even though we don't need to anymore, we're still grocery shopping twice a week.

So, our lives are simpler now, and we keep trying to simplify even further. It's made for a more peaceful existence, and I have Germany to thank for that.

We haven't been social partly because we've been trying to clear all the junk out of our house but also maybe partly because we're used to being just the four of us. This weekend, we worked on our house, my five-year-old started riding a pedal bike by herself, and that was about it. Oh, and we put up our first Christmas tree. We never bought one because we were never home for Christmas; we were always at one of our parents' homes. But living away from friends and family, we bought a little potted Christmas tree in Germany (the land of Christmas), and it was lovely. So, this year, we bought a full-sized Christmas tree to have at home, too. My daughters were ecstatic, and my partner and I love how cozy it makes our living room, too.

I used to always have fairy lights (aka: Christmas lights) up in my bedroom. I think I want to fill my house with them now! Except, wait, I'm trying to get rid of stuff... But Marie Kondo says we should fill our lives with things that bring us joy (and chuck the rest), so maybe I *can* have my fairy-light-filled house after all. (I just have to actually chuck the rest...)

a grief all modern humans share

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My beloved 10th grade English teacher, Mr. Krieckhaus, and I have been emailing recently about life, and he shared this excerpt from Francis Weller's The Wild Edge of Sorrow with me.

I'm lucky that I always have somewhere I can turn to expand my mind, and this really made me brain explode a bit. This is a grief that we humans share, living in the modern world, and he describes it so well.

As we approach Thanksgiving, let's see how we can change this.

It can feel daunting to read something like this. A heavy weight sits upon us as we think of our lack of village. But that is temporary, like everything else. We can start to build a village, start welcoming people, and creating this community wherever we are with whatever we have, right now.

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living in germany = eating vegetables

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When we imagined a sabbatical year in Europe, we pictured something idyllic like this. It felt both far away and that it would last a long time. And yet, here we are, getting ready to leave already. A month ago, we already had to submit printed letters to both my daughters' schools and to the "castle" we live in to give the required three months' notice that we were leaving. 

When we got here, it felt like we were never going to leave. Now, we have 58 days left in Europe. (Not that I'm counting.) 

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So, we've been in Darmstadt, Germany, for half a year now, and it took us almost that long just to live here legally with all of the necessary paperwork filed and to find great schools for both of our daughters. 

We joke that we should have lived here longer for it to be worth all of the set-up time, energy, and trees killed, but I don't think we would choose to live in Germany again. And before anyone gets offended, I will say we have learned a lot from living here, have made some lovely friends, and have really enjoyed many aspects of life in Darmstadt. 

So, here's our recap of life in Germany:

40 days in Germany

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I've been in Germany for 40 days. And Trump is now the president of the United States.

* Warning: lots of ranting ahead. *

I voted for Bernie Sanders, thinking he'd probably lose to Hillary, then I voted for Hillary, predicting Trump would win. But I still couldn't believe it when it actually happened. My partner said the polls all said Hillary was a clear victor. Goes to show how reliable polls are.

75 days away from home

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At 50 days on the road, I was in Paris and emailed my dear friend, Val:

We've been on the road for 50 days now, and holy moly, we've been like a tornado ripping through nine states (Mississippi was more of a drive-by, though), four countries, seven flights (well, five, but two had two legs), twelve cities, etc. On good days, it's amazing. Aria and Téa play in a picturesque playground sandbox with the Eiffel Tower in the background while Andres and I sit on a shaded park bench and sigh at how awesome everything is. On bad days, Aria is tantruming, Téa is crying because she's hungry, Andres and I are grumpy and tired and lost, and it starts to rain. We've had plenty of both kinds of moments, but there are definitely far fewer of those perfect moments! (Of course, they weigh a lot more, so one five-minute awesome moment can carry us through a tough day or two...) ;-)

Now, at 75 days away from home, we've settled in our home for the academic year, but we don't know anyone here yet, and it's colder and grayer in Germany. (Let's all play our pity violins for the wimpy Californians.) There is a ton of paperwork to fill out, and while we have a place at a bilingual school for our younger daughter starting October 31st (yay!), we have been jumping through hoops in search for a school for our older daughter and are now on the wait list for an emergency place with the ministry of education.

The upside is that we live in what I call a castle because it is old and gorgeous and looks, well, like a castle.

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And the way I figure it, we'll either make great friends this year or we'll bond as a family.

So, for now, we'll be donning puffy jackets and bundling up, and we'll try to remember to do our next sabbatical somewhere warmer. :-)

P.S. If you speak English (or Chinese or Spanish) and live in (or near) Darmstadt, send me a message at serendipityberries@gmail.com, and let's be friends! Any other expats around? We haven't seen any friends since August, so we're due for some socializing. (And if you happen to have kids who could play with my 1-year-old and/or 4-year-old, that would be awesome, too.) :-)