Lately I’ve become, somewhat disturbingly, aware of the increased conversational frequency I have with my cat. Before moving to Germany (…looks down to count fingers) eight months ago, I spent roughly 9 hours a day, five days a week surrounded by other humans in a florescent-lit place commonly referred to as Work.
Today, however, I spend less than a quarter of that time attending a German language class so that I can eventually learn enough to go back to spending most of my time at Work.
So what am I doing with all this extra time? For starters, my apartment has never been cleaner (except for that mysterious, weird smell dwelling in the refrigerator. But that doesn’t count because its origins are currently, well, mysterious.) And there’s studying German, of course, drinking Weinschorle, scouring Munich for tofu products and getting lost (although the regularity of the latter has declined in recent months).
But my social life? Is there an international onomatopoeia for cricket sounds?
Okay, so I’ve always considered myself a bit of an ab und zu (roughly now and then) extrovert. But since moving here, I’ve been a lot less ab and a lot more zu. While I have made a few friends here, my circle is considerably smaller than in previous cities.
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| I, too, will get my social groove back, just like this happy little guy. |
My self-induced, quasi-mountain hermit…ness is certainly not for lack of social opportunities. Yet no matter how many people I meet, I haven’t been able to shake this odd, sideline observer feeling. And until recently, I haven’t been able to figure out why. But having lots of extra time gives one the opportunity for deep self-reflection…and to eat a lot of wasabi peanuts.
So what’s holding me back? No, it’s not wasabi peanut breath. It’s my personality in German, or more accurately, lack thereof.
Almost all of my day-to-day conversations with friends and new acquaintances are in German (apart from a few). And while I can chitchat with a sufficient degree of competence, I lack the linguistic dexterity required to make refined, meaningful or witty contributions.
Even in those rare instances where I manage to formulate something untextbooky, by the time my brain transfers it to my lips, the conversational moment has passed. Timing is everything, and unfortunately the translation app running in my brain is slower than a Mississippi drawl. And despite the fact that most of the people I meet are also foreigners, sharing in the struggle to master this language, I’ve refuse (aside from the aforementioned exceptions) to slide comfortable into English.
Almost all of my day-to-day conversations with friends and new acquaintances are in German (apart from a few). And while I can chitchat with a sufficient degree of competence, I lack the linguistic dexterity required to make refined, meaningful or witty contributions.
Even in those rare instances where I manage to formulate something untextbooky, by the time my brain transfers it to my lips, the conversational moment has passed. Timing is everything, and unfortunately the translation app running in my brain is slower than a Mississippi drawl. And despite the fact that most of the people I meet are also foreigners, sharing in the struggle to master this language, I’ve refuse (aside from the aforementioned exceptions) to slide comfortable into English.
So where does this leave my social life? In a bit of a rut, until my German improves anyway.
On the upside, at least I’ve started speaking to my cat in monochrome German. Although, between you and me, his conversational skills are worse than mine…
