The word Gleisersatzverkehr is an important word to know in German.  It means “hahahaha, your train’s not coming sucker.”  It also means “there’s construction on the tracks,” “your trip is now going to involve switching between several (slow) buses and trains,” and, literally, “track replacement traffic.” 

I was on my way to Esslingen, a little town (by little I mean approx. 90,000 inhabitants) on the Neckar.  But I was going there via Mannheim, where I could trade in my train seat for a seat in a beat up old police van (no longer owned by the police).  I took the train to Worms, did some transferring and bus riding to circumvent the construction on the tracks, and landed in Mannheim two and a half hours later.

On Monday morning, Bayern Munich coach Jürgen Klinsmann was informed that he was surplus to requirements. This came as no surprise to Bundesliga fans, as Bayern had crashed to a 7th league defeat at home against Schalke on Saturday afternoon. Luckily for Bayern, however, they are still in the title race, as league leaders Wolfsburg suffered a shock defeat at the hands of lowly Energie Cottbus, whilst Hamburg lost away in Dortmund. With just five match days to go, the title race has been blown wide open: The five teams at the top are separated by just three points. And many still have to play each other.

In comparison to America, Germany is a fairly small place.  “Germany,” I still remember my high school German teacher telling our class, “is about the size of Pennsylvania.”  Though it turns out Germany is actually more like four times the size of Pennsylvania, it is still a relatively small place in American standards, and for being so small, it’s a wonder what a range of regional culinary specialties exist here, tucked away in every corner.

In Rheinland-Pfälz, I’ve experienced Pfälzer Saumagen.  But in Hessen you need not be so daring to sample the local specialties, because in Hessen the standards are “apfelwein,” “grüne soße,” and “handkäs mit musik.”

Apfelwein

Moving to another country was the first culture shock.  Suddenly I was in Germany, surrounded by another culture and another language.  Then the career change: instead of sitting behind a desk, whether as a student or as a proofreader, I had become a nanny, then an English teacher, then a full-time freelance writer.  Then I blew all the other changes right out of the water and moved into a little wooden gypsy caravan on a piece of squatted land on the outskirts of one of Europe’s most metropolitan cities.

In town, bankers sipped 8-euro drinks and talked about their stock portfolios, while I lived with a bunch of adventurous nomadic types with brightly colored hair and wild dreadlocks, without electricity, carrying water 100-meters from the faucet to my little house or the community kitchen, chopping firewood to fire up the woodstove, reading by candlelight.

With a series of company bosses held hostage in their offices in France recently, it would be easy for the casual observer to come to the conclusion that the relationship between the French worker and boss had become somewhat strained.

Monsieur Ribéry, however, provides a refreshing antidote in the current calamitous economic climate. Not only is he a hard worker who happens to be excellent at his job – the little Frenchman even tries his very best to save his bosses’ jobs.

Following his two goals for France to secure two 1-0 World Cup Qualifier wins and his coach’s job, Franck Ribéry set about providing some job security for his beleaguered club coach Jürgen Klinsmann.

There was a collective gasp by Bundesliga fans watching the top match between VfL Wolfsburg and Bayern Munich. Not only had Grafite just scored an outrageously brilliant back-heeled goal that sent the broadcasters into a replay-showing, superlative-searching frenzy – it also happed to be the fifth goal in a 5-1 demolition of Bayern that put Wolfsburg top of the league.

Ten touches in eight seconds to take out five Wolfsburg players – Grafite’s Goal of the Year personified Wolfsburg’s dominance: He received the ball from Dzeko in left midfield and dribbled towards Ottl who backed off the striker allowing him to run into the box. Lell had come across to help his teammate, but the Brazilian faked left and then cut inside squeezing between the two players to come across the face of goal. With goalkeeper Rensing closing down the angle he continued his parallel run and executed a cheeky back heel bamboozling Lahm and Breno who had rushed back.

Almost four years after the fact, it hits me one day in the bathroom.  “I live in Germany.  I really live here!  What the hell?!”

Sure, it may sound obvious to you, but the scurrility of living in another country, in another language, on another continent takes some time to really absorb.  And here I am, facing another renewal of my visa, registered at a German address, with a German bank account, German friends, German books, a German gmail account.  How did it all happen?