They get them started on certificates early around here… (Flickr: ninnet)

If there’s one stereotype about Germans that is very stubborn abroad, it’s that they are sticklers for paperwork; and like all stereotypes, it is not without at least a small grain of truth. After all, Germany is the land of Bescheide, Bescheinigungen, and Belege, a country where you won’t get very far without the right Scheine, Urkunden, and Zeugnisse. Yes, just the sheer amount of words for certificate/document should be enough to remind all of us that Germans take their paperwork seriously.

Classic British detective fiction: a winner in Germany! (Flickr: Mr Wabu)

One great thing about being British in Germany is that Germans are, in general, very fond of the UK; much like the USA, my home country has carved itself a cultural niche in Germany mainly through music, literature, and television, and so people will often say to me things like: “Oh, you’re from England? Really? I absolutely love The Beatles/Nick Hornby/Inspector Barnaby…” I am, of course, in no way responsible or linked to any of these people and characters, but I nevertheless greatly enjoy basking in their reflected glory.

Calendars – different in every country (Flickr: Eichental)

Monday was an odd day this week. Firstly, I noticed during breakfast that my girlfriend was still there, smiling across the table at me and drinking tea – which is odd given that she works full-time a good two hundred clicks south of Hamburg. Secondly, when I rang a service hotline trying to sort out some annoying computer issues, I got an even more annoying answering machine telling me that the call center in question was closed.

Photo: BM

One of the things I’ve always liked about Germany is the cultural tendency to “completeness”, as I like to call it. Germans always say “keine halbe Sachen” – i.e. they don’t like to do things by halves. This especially applies to festivals and seasons, and is something I enjoy greatly. Whereas in England, where I was born and grew up, it might just happen to be strawberry or asparagus season, in Germany, they really go the whole hog – or spear: restaurants have menus composed entirely around Spargel (asparagus) and everywhere you get invited, the host is cooking the stuff.

That's right, fellahs, we're talking about you! (Flickr: HamburgerJung)

One thing that’s pretty clear is that humans, no matter who they are and where they come from, have relatively similar wants, needs and desires. We all like food, protection from the elements and the company of other humans. Yet despite what you might be tempted to think, there are very few things common to all human languages. Even the most basic things – like a word for “I”, for example – might exist in the vast majority of tongues, but by no means in every one.

Chanterelles in the woods (Flickr: EdWohlfahrt)

One of the most challenging things about writing is trying to sum up entire places and periods in a few words so that you’re able to move on with your story. Yet if I were ever to need, for some reason or other, to briefly describe Germany in mid-September, I know exactly how I’d do it: chanterelles and plums.

That sounds better in German, since chanterelles are called Pfifferlinge and plums Pflaumen, which would give any such description a poetic alliteration of the first order. Yet apart from the usual writer’s aesthetic considerations, why consider these two particular foodstuffs?

Dortmund Hauptbahnhof, a typical German main station (Flickr: das_kine)

One of the first words that British schoolchildren who take German learn is Bahnhof, and very soon after, they are told about the prefix Haupt-: and, badda-bing, badda-bahnhof, you’ve got one of the most important words in the German language, a kind of key to the German soul.

What? A word which, translated, means “main station” – and this is supposed to open the treasure chest of the German psyche? Yes, you got it! Just give me a few minutes, and I’ll show you how.