Wrapping Up

So I went home, for a few weeks, got back to Germany and got really sick, the family went on vacation, I got a few good days with the kids, and all of the sudden I was packing again. My Au Pair experience is over.

There are so many things I'm still holding on to. So many good memories and so many mixed emotions. I don't really want to dwell on it anymore, so I think I'll just say this:

I loved being with my families. Both of them. My second family was completely wonderful. I don't think I can express to them how much I respect them individually and as a collective. I left in what felt like such a rush, personally racing towards something new, that I never did say it. I hope that some part of my appreciation for them existing translated through other actions and words. I always regret not saying a proper goodbye to someone you care for, and then realizing you might never see them again.

I've had a few weeks to really digest it all. And what keeps coming back to me is a funny comment or a great moment of inclusion or a night with the kids I'll treasure for always. I got a lot of those. More than I realized when I was trying to pack and train and re-plan Ireland.

Now I have my photos and journals, and in 10 years I can really look back and evaluate the process, but for now... I don't think I will. It's all still too fresh for me to be objective.

And that's it really.

Even thought this blog is called "The Rocky Road to Dublin" I think I'm done. If you want to hear about Ireland you can call me or write me or send a telegram (I've always wanted to receive a telegram). But for the general purpose of adding something to the Interwebs... that's really all you need to know.

Signing off,
Ellbow

Don't Say Anything

I've been learning over the last few weeks that one of the hardest things to do in life is to walk away from a situation without saying another word. It feels like an admittance of guilt or defeat. It feels wrong. And I'm still trying to remind myself daily that walking away is respectful, level headed and the right thing to do. Even when it doesn't feel that way after three weeks.

On New Years day I ventured over to Munich again and I contacted my first family to see if I could bring by or drop off some presents for the boys. I've never felt good about how I left it with the family, but leaving Jay and Lee when they had no experience with Au Pair's and my leaving was rather unplanned really raked me. I felt and feel it's important that those boys know I was there for them, I genuinely cared.

What I got in response was a message saying they were "surprised" to hear from me, a friend had forwarded "disappointing comments" and they didn't feel the need to continue the "contact". (Forgive the weird one word quotes, but those were key words that stood out to me).

I grappled with this for about a day, talked to both my parents and some friends, and heard from everyone that the best thing to do is just to let that bridge burn and make no response. But even now, three weeks later, I still think about it at least once a day.

Not saying anything--not even an "Ok" or "I can respect that" or "I hope you'll read the whole blog one day and not just comments"--it feels wrong. I want to argue my point and have an outlet to a) apologize as they clearly feel that comments made in this blog are bad enough to warrant never wanting any form of contact with someone who lived in their house for three months and b) ask them to take some time to see the whole picture one day.

I re-read and copy edited the whole blog in the days following that message. What I read over and over were posts where I had been really hopeful that a not-as-great-as-I-thought-it-was-going-to-be situation would be amicably resolved. That I would find a way to be really happy with adults and kids who are so different from myself. I was really trying in those first two months to balance my responsibilities to school, myself and the family, and I felt personally responsible that things weren't working out.

The second thing that struck me was how happy I am here. I feel really lucky to be with a family now who gets me and puts effort into a two-way relationship. Just today there were conversations about career path and education and thesising, and watching Star Wars with my 10 year old and totally nerding out over it together, and my 15 year old baked great bread for tomorrow, and I cuddled on the couch with a dog, and I was given the time and space to take a 4 hour nap because I needed some sleep after horse back riding, and oh yeah, I went horse back riding, and I've read around 200 pages from three different books today. And it's all okay. No one's upset that I'm doing things I enjoy. I'm appreciated for the individual I am. And I appreciate my family for being the amazing people they are.

I think there's an argument to be made that I'm just a better fit with this family. But I think the argument that also gets left out of the picture on all of the Au Pair and Au Pair Mom websites that I've seen is that this family is a better fit with me.

I just wish there were a way of expressing that not-upset, not-angry, I hope your life goes well attitude to the first family without being disrespectful in contacting them again.

6 months today

It's hump day! And yes it is Sunday, not Wednesday. But it is also the half way point for me in this journey. I know for certain that I will be home on or before 6 months, 10 days from today and I left the US the same amount of time ago. It's been a crazy 6 months which I'm glad to have had, but I couldn't be happier that I'm half way home.

One of the biggest struggles in my commitment to be here for a year was knowing that I couldn't afford to go home for Christmas. Christmas in my family is huge, it's all about the people and the time and the food. I've never missed the 7 hour marathon that is Christmas Eve at Granny's until this year. And while some members of my family don't always like it so much, I love it.

I spent the month after Thanksgiving preparing myself for skipping Christmas this year while still trying to be a cheerful and energetic member of the family bringing Christmas cheer to the kids. I knew I wouldn't get a big family event with anyone and that the tree wouldn't get here until the 23rd. I was really struggling with it and feeling pretty home sick. But my host family came through as I never expected.

The kids and I talked about traditions and shared a lot of our culture, the mom, Ari, asked for CD's of my Christmas music which she put on at every opportunity, we all plotted out the perfect Christmas presents to get each other, holding secret pow-wows in the laundry room to get it just right.

On Christmas Eve (Heilige Abend) we went to Mass and I hummed along to Christmas carols (turns out trying to sing something like Silent Night in English while everyone else sings in German is not functional). The end of Mass marks the end of Advent and the beginning of Christmas. As the very last thing, instead of small talk everyone hugs and says "Frohe Weinachten!" for the first time.

Then we came home and the kids had to go upstairs as we got everything ready: dinner, presents, tree, everything. In Germany Santa Claus or Saint Nikolas comes on Saint Nikolas Tag (St. Nick Day, Dec. 6th) and Christ Kind (the Christ child) brings presents on Dec 24th. On getting back from Church there's supposed to be this big reveal of everything for the children so it's like the baby Jesus brought good food and presents and (a newly decorated) tree while you were out celebrating him. Since the kids are 10 and 15 it was more about getting everything perfect than having a Christkind surprise. We even put lit sparklers on the tree (Germans don't have smoke alarms or fire extinguishers in their houses, this is the most terrifying thing ever!).

Next came dinner: the traditional sausages and potato salad (it's not like the American stuff, it's so much better), Ari even went out of her way to buy turkey sausage for me. And after dinner I hid the pickle.

The pickle is a German tradition which we've always done at my house but the Germans didn't know anything about. We had talked about it a few days before and Ari and Mark had gone out shopping to buy a real German (glass) pickle for me to use on my tree from now on. Prim found the pickle so she had to play Santa and deliver the first round of gifts.

Most people don't know how much I love giving presents. My dad's big on the one gift Christmas since he hates shopping so I'm used to a small "haul" from Christmas and was completely prepared for getting my two gifts from home and watching everyone else open the presents I had lovingly ordered. What I wasn't prepared for was that my (host) family all went out and bought me presents. They had all chosen things I had talked about needing or wanting over the last 3 months and really put a lot of thought into my Christmas.

Every time I try to explain this it comes off sounding consumerist, but it wasn't about that at all. I had a wonderful Christmas because the people I was surrounded with went out of their way to listen to me and care about me. That's a kind of compassion we usually reserve for family and it's something I admire and respect in others. I felt really loved and valued this Christmas. I missed home and family. I missed playing silly games and having to eat with a kid on one leg, a dog starring you down and sitting on the living room floor because there are no more chairs. I missed being so excited about Christmas morning that I still woke up at 8 even though no one was getting there until 11. But I had people around me who adopted me and loved me when going home wasn't an option. I am beyond grateful for that.

There are a lot of times in the life of an Au Pair when you're frustrated or feeling abused because of cultural differences, living with a family you don't know to well, and the nature of the job. But I feel blessed to be with a family that wants me here and cares for me everyday.

Merry half-way-point!
Ellbow

Snow Ball Fights

I'm the last Au Pair in a line of five for my current family. The kids have had Au Pairs coming in and out of their lives for 3-4 years. They know that eventually I'm going to leave and as a defense mechanism they don't get too attached, especially the younger (Reason #37 why I will never have an Au Pair). But this disengagement from me makes it difficult to form a positive relationship. On the one hand I have to drag him on walk and force him to play games with me, and on the other hand while he's happy to avoid the special fun times, I'm around all day so he's perfectly comfortable being a grump at me.

Despite his best efforts there are some days he cannot resist enjoying spending time with me, like Dec 3 when we baked 60 sugar cookies that never made it to the neighbors. And last Saturday.

It finally snowed last Saturday. And for those of you in Portland saying I shouldn't complain you've had plenty of snow and cold: it's been under 0 degrees C here for weeks on end, never coming above the freezing point, and also refusing to snow. So when it started to snow on Saturday, the two of us at home alone for the whole day, we got unreasonably excited. We waited and waited for the accumulation to hit a sweet point and then we took both dogs for a snow ball fight walk.

It was amazingly enjoyable, and even if he returned to being a pre-teen the moment we got inside and he realized how wet and cold he was, we had one good day together.

My mom at this point of the story started wondering if I really was in a good place. My mom, like most people, is able to hear the negative louder than the positive. I've had two really good days with the kids in the last 2 weeks. When you're more used to removing yourself from the equation because they don't want you around at all, 2 days is a lot. 2 days means that things are looking up.

Thanksgiving

I missed Thanksgiving in the states, but thankfully my family here is just deranged enough to give into my pleas for an American holiday. I ended up cooking for days and having to complicate recipes because they don't have things like condensed soup, French's fried onions, and canned pumpkin puree here. But in the end we had a very lovely, all American (tasting), German Thanksgiving dinner for 16. We did have to do it on a Sunday because Thursday wasn't a holiday over here.

The typical Martha Stewart chef photo.

Prim found the combination of Pandora Christmas music and the screen saver of hot men very amusing.

It was also the first day of Advent

My reward: a visit from St. Nicholas

I'm a Witch Don'tcha Know?

One of the things I've noticed as a huge cultural divide between Germany and America is the traits parents aim to encourage in their kids. Where as I grew up being supported if not pushed in creativity, leadership and ingenuity, German kids are generally not. The school system seems to lean towards more Asian pedagogy: facts and accuracy are more important than participation or effort. Parents also seem to drive kids along a straight and narrow path. And the kids as a result, are often hesitant to break out of this zone.

I see this a lot when I'm helping with homework or studying. When they don't know the answer I give them time and then try to lead them through the logic to the correct answer. A German teacher or parent in the same situation may be more likely to give them the correct answer and revisit it later. In American schools this kind of route learning is frowned upon, or at least it was for me. The point is not to know that 6 times 7 is 42. The point is to know why 6 times 7 is 42 and not yellow or up or Cannis familiarus. Knowing that in this sentence I use "hers" and not "his" isn't as helpful as knowing why. But slipping into these methods and this pedagogy easily frustrates the Germans. In school it's important to know the answer, but not important to know the reasoning, so that's all they care about.

There are also ways that these different characteristics inhibit my daily interactions with the Germans. I'm a nerd. I like fantasy books and sci-fi television. My imagination runs wild when I'm sitting still. I dream and build crazy worlds in my spare time. And my bed time stories always involve a man named George and the curious things that happen to him. So when I forget myself and reason something with gibberish ("we can't go that way, the mud is clearly deep and poisonous and we will inevitably get stuck in it up to our waists while sword fighting ROUS's"), as I am apt to do spontaneously around anyone under the age of 13, the Germans tend to think I'm crazy.*

Through 3 months with a 3 and a 6 year old, and now with a 10 and a 15 year old, I've only managed to get a kid to accept that these are jokes, inventions, things to be played upon and developed using the creative side of our brains once:

The fam had made plans for me to take the 10 year old to a friend's after lunch one day of my first week here. The dad had me drive in the morning and showed me where the friend lived and the best way to get there and back. In the afternoon I was driving along with the boy, Luke, when he suddenly turned to me and asked "how do you know where we're going?" I nearly stumbled over it, explaining about the morning drive before I stopped: "Weil ich eine Hexe bin. Ich weiss alles!" (Because I'm a witch. I know everything!). Luke looked at me a little hesitantly, accepted that I was kidding and I thought that was the end of it. Well, actually what I thought was Damn! Another kid who will never defend the play structure from dragons, or make up a secret language, or invent stories while we go on walks. But then about a week later, sitting at the dinner table I answered a question put to the group about the schedule or some such mundane thing, and the mom asked me how in the world I knew that. Luke piped up before I could, simply saying "Because she's a witch." and we both cleared our plates and left the room giggling.

I don't know if valuing one set of character traits in a population is better than another. I don't know if any country raises better kids than any other. I do know that I value leadership skills (listening, decision making and group/activity facilitation) over passiveness or following. I value creativity in logic or art over the "correct answer" or the "correct way". And I value an open-mindedness and acceptance of a plurality over a straight and narrow path. But I think that part of holding those values is knowing that neither the American nor the German way of raising kids is the right way if only because there is no right way. These kids are who they are, only partially a result of the society they were raised in. I wish they understood my sense of humor a little better. But I here that no one really understands my sense of humor. So I guess the best I can do is try to learn who they are and teach them who I am, and both become a little more pluralist in the process.



*Because this is something new. Americans never think I'm crazy.

What to do with your family once you've left

If you've read the posts from about 2 months ago you'll know that I had a few really awful weeks with my first family that ultimately ended with me leaving. At the time they said they wouldn't be looking to get another Au Pair and I thought this was a good idea because they certainly didn't need or want me in their family and no one should move across the world to live like that.

But in keeping tabs on them today I discovered that they are seeking another Au Pair. And I have no idea how to react to it. Mainly because I have zero recourse in the matter.

This was a family I worked hard to be a part of, I didn't fit with them, I left and on not so good terms. I have a lot of frustration and concern about their search for a new Au Pair. It's a bit like going through an uncomfortable break up, where no matter how mutual it is, when you meet the person they're dating now you feel an uncontrollable urge to chase them down the street shouting "WARNING!" at the top of your lungs. You've been there, it sucked, you want to inform others that they should not go there unless ready to face x, y, and z.

Ultimately, even if I had a way to comment on their profile or get in touch with their fresh applicants I know it wouldn't do much good. Like the current girl friend who is warned by the ex, most would brush it off as that crazy Au Pair they had before who was just really not a good person and probably unstable. But I wish that I could let them know just the same.

It's a really difficult thing, being an Au Pair. You're not part of the family, but you're there all the time just like an older sibling. You're integral to the functioning of the household (hopefully) and yet totally replaceable. You know this family today, better than anyone, but if you left tomorrow they wouldn't belong to you or exist by your description any longer. It's especially difficult to be an Au Pair when things aren't going so well or you are about to leave, when all of these things are true in the same moment.

Sometimes I wish I had listened to my dad, gone straight to grad school and was busy teaching in a New York public school right this moment. This isn't easy, it's more difficult than I thought it would be. I can only hope that when you're paired with the right family, the end result is worth a year of turmoil.



By the by, if I could add an amendment to Tina and Mike's profile it would go like this:

"I spent 3 months living with the (family name omitted)'s and getting to know all four of them quite well. They are a loud and vivacious bunch who are certainly true to their Bavarian roots. I think the only affects 4 years living in the states had on them is that Mike bakes the family's bread and all have a propensity for Cars. I decided to leave this family, ending my contract early, after Tina told me that I wasn't fitting in well and she didn't think she could live with me. 90% of this I chalk up to a bad match made by all of us. I am a quiet person, though rowdy and playful with kids, I like reading, I need alone time, I take daily walks because my head gets clogged with thoughts, and I enjoy observing and listening at the dinner table more than talking. I am generally emotionally reserved. And the cherry on the cake? I am confident being this person, because this is the true me. Now take that description, flip it on it's head and that's Tina. You can see how this would be a bad fit.

"If you're looking to join this family I would make a few suggestions as to who you are: talkative, with everyone, all the time, day and night; a work in progress as a person--maybe it's your first time away from home, your first time in a foreign country, you don't speak the language, some insecurity that can be a project for you and Tina to bond over; love, love, love really little kids--every single child I met in Germany acts 2-3 years younger than their American equivalent, so if you're used to American independent 6 year olds be prepared for a 4 year old; and finally I would say that this family would work best with someone who is very open about their emotions, happy, smiling and bubbly the vast majority of the time, not at all concerned with crying in front of the whole family, and who displays every emotion readily on their face. If you fit that description you will likely find yourself having the easiest job in the world with this family."

Funny Conversations

My German is getting better. Remarkably so. But every once in awhile there's a false cognate that totally trips me up like "Indianer" which sounds a lot like "Indiana" when said with a proper German accent.

This is how I found out:

M: "I was in New York once, I did a whole trip in... when was it?"
P: "2007. I was in the fourth class."
M: "Right you were doing a report on Indianer and I brought back buffalo meat for the class."
P: "Yep."
Me: "...ummm... I don't think there are buffalo in Indiana."
All the Germans laugh at me.

Nothing like a stupid American to lighten up a dinner party!

Halloween in Germany

Halloween stopped being all that exciting for me when I was 13 and my dad told me I couldn't go trick-or-treating anymore because I was too old. So while my friends went around the neighborhood collecting candy from strangers I started a new tradition: stay at home and watch Mel Brooks' Young Frankenstein with your finger on the pause button, jumping up every 5 minutes to answer the door and hand out candy to appropriately aged children. After 9 years of this I can mouth every joke along with the film. But if there's one kind of comedy that doesn't translate to German it's Mel Brooks' Young Frankenstein. Double entendre directly translated into another language and based around a collection of colloquialisms some how isn't funny.

But despite having my family tradition crumble around me I was determined to bring a little American to this holiday. I'll do Christmas their way, they had it first. But Thanksgiving and Halloween are from North America, post hoc, ergo propter hoc: my deal.

Thankfully American Halloween has somewhat seeped into German culture already (Thanksgiving I'm going to have to build from the ground up).

The kids carve pumpkins every year--we just had to work on the idea that carving pumpkins is something best done on the kitchen floor and pumpkin seeds are for saving, baking and eating.

All the time Prim was carving this one I couldn't stop singing "this is Halloween, this is Halloween" which they apparently play on repeat in Europa Park (the Disney Land of Germany)

I did manage to convince them that in absence of decorations we would have to decorate sugar cookies, which went over remarkably well and which were gone remarkable quickly (I sent half of them home with the friend who came over to decorate with us).

Cookies

More cookies

Favorite cookie. It was delicious.

Costumes are a part of German Halloween already, but they choose their costumes the day before from whatever they can find around. There are decidedly no party stores in Germany, and costume stores? Forget about it! But even the parents got in on the action: a group of the adults dressed up and went to a Scottish bar apparently. At least this was the justification I was given as to why everyone got home so late and was singing "Loch Lomond" in the morning. The one thing markedly absent: skimpy costumes. Everyone I saw was well layered and wearing gloves because it's cold here and they are reasonable people.

There is one thing adorable about German Halloween that I wish Americans would adopt: they don't say "trick or treat". Instead the group of kids or one kid comes up with an original poem or rhyme that says something about their costume and their desire for candy. I didn't understand what they were saying at all, but they did work for their chocolate and it was totally adorable.

The one thing German Halloween is totally missing out on: Halloween movies. They have the Disney channel, they have R.L. Stein, but they don't show Halloween movies even on the telly, even on Halloween. This seems a terrible waste to me, especially as someone has gone through the trouble of properly dubbing Hocus Pocus for German children.

All in all Halloween went by in a fairly normal way. I brought in a little more American to the holiday, then failed to do anything on the actual day and ended up turning off all the lights on the first floor and playing guitar because I didn't understand I was being left at home to hand out candy to groups of rhyming German children.

An American am Boden See

So I moved to lake Konstance this week (a.k.a. Boden See). The family is new (obvs), the weather is cold and grey, the dialect is crazy, and the people are used to Americans.

Now most of the time in Europe I hide my American identity as best I can. If asked I won't lie. But waving an American flag, or telling everyone you're an American right off the bat is generally a bad idea when your federal government is about to default on its debt ceiling and greatly impact the local economy. Yep, bad idea.

Except for yesterday. Yesterday I was picking up my kid at the bus station when a 10 or 11 year old girl walked up to me to ask if her bus had already been by. I had forgotten the word for schedule ("Plannen") so I had to apologize for not speaking very good German, and when I explained that I came from the U.S.A. her whole demeanor changed. She got that really wide-eyed awe look that only children can pull off, and said "Oh! I love the U.S.A." and then promptly ran away.

So I guess not everyone hates Americans.

Oktoberfest, Visit from Dad, and the new family soon.

Castle Time

I forgot to show you Neuschwanstein! Woops! I went to what is likely the most iconic castle in the world a few weeks ago. This was my second visit, but seeing as it's been 17 years, it seemed reasonable to repeat the experience. The surrounding town is nice, if a little swanky and touristy, so if you want to go play Belle, plan on taking the whole day. The tour is short, and there's not a hell of a lot of detail, so if you happen to speak a language that is not German or English fluently it's worth it to go on the audio tour rather than the guided tour (the audio tour is not offered in German or English because the Universe hates you and assumes you are uninterested in a detailed history of every room). Unfortunately you cannot take pictures inside, so all I have is outside shots, but lovely still.

As seen from well below in town. I may have not seen this for the first 5 minutes we were off the bus until someone pointed it out to me... maybe.

Because it wouldn't be complete without a drawbridge

Waiting for a tour can be surreal, all of the tourists mingle together in the courtyard, lounging around the castle, finally using it the way it was meant to be used.

The inner courtyard

The horrendous view from the balcony

My traveling companions

The whole area is surrounded by wilderness, waterfalls, lakes, mountains, it's crazy

A more famous view of the castle, though my damn lens was just a little too big.

What Living in Europe Feels Like

Following my rejection from Teach for America I developed a defensive mechanism: I don't think about what I've left behind, or where I am or where I'm going. At least not too much. I try to just make simple plans and live my life, and deal with the issue right in front of me. In terms of leaving my life behind, having a bad experience with my first family, and missing my ride to Belgium, this works really well. Unfortunately it also dulls my awe and respect for living in beautiful Bavaria.

But sometimes I'm standing on a train platform, or running away from a thunder storm, or reflexively answering a question in German and the reality of my position becomes abundantly apparent. I'm overcome with this feeling of jubilation and elation. The way you feel when John Williams has been timed perfectly to the emotion of a film. All of the sudden I am completely aware of being in Europe, of living here, of being a German. I don't feel like a tourist, or like I'm just letting my life pass me by. I feel in those brief moments, great. And not in the common sense of the word, but in the Charlemagne, Helen of Troy, Jed Bartlett way. The Kings of Old way. I feel large and powerful and beautiful and clever and unique and perfect. I feel like the best version of myself and I doubt nothing. Then the last few notes of King of Anything or Chip on my Shoulder or Defying Gravity fade and the moment passes. Then I'm an American again, standing like a tourist waiting for a train in a country where we don't speak the language. Walking home at night feels strange again. The angst creeps back in on me. And I wait, for another one of those moments.

This is what it feels like to live in Europe. Or maybe this is just what it feels like to live.

My Island

In the week when I was trying to figure out whether I ought to stay or go from my first family I spent a good deal of time walking around the area. I stumbled across an island this way, which was large, gorgeous and practically deserted. Perfect for thinking.

What Home has Been

In light of being in Germany, sitting on a couch for the morning, instead of Belgium, exploring a new city, let me show you where I've been the last 3 months.

This is a grocery store. A grocery looks like this.

Another apartment building, just beautifully painted

The center square fountain, in front of the Catholic Church

The Catholic church in town is difficult to get a good image of, but this is the bell tower.

My little Fremont Bridge. I went here often to escape as it looked like a miniature piece of home.

The whole bike path is strewn with lamp posts. It had me thinking of Narnia daily.

The river from a boating dock.

My second favorite bridge. It crossed the dam, which also was beautiful.

Lots of people had secondary garden plots up against the river, with little boat houses and docks attached.

Another church in town, I found a crowded bier hall loud with drunken singing here one night.