A few weeks back, we all had the not inconsiderable pleasure of an expert explanation of the infamous Berlin dialect, a manner of speaking so reliably confusing to outsiders that even other Germans have their own word for it: berlinern, or “to mumble Berlin slang.” And Berlin is by no means the only German metropolis with its own special way of speaking: residents of Hamburg don’t Deutsch sprechen, for example. No, what Hamburgers do is snacken – and I don’t mean eating meat sandwiches, here.

After a long time at sea, all Hamburg sailors want to do is snack!

Snacken is the way other Germans describe Hamburg’s own peculiar way of distorting standard German. And just like Berlinerisch, it’s a mixture of a characteristic accent, idiomatic expressions, and vocabulary imported from older dialectal forms.

A typical WG hallway – used for drying laundry and storing stolen neon-backlit beer advertisments

For many of us non-Germans in the 20-30 age bracket, one of the best things about living here is, well, how easy it is to live here. By that, I mean: how easy it is to find somewhere to live.

Even Germany’s most overcrowded cities like Munich and Stuttgart are a long way off from London and Paris when it comes to finding a flat, and some of Germany’s coolest cities – like Berlin – are also among its emptiest. A major part of this is the huge extent of flatsharing amongst young people, providing cheap rental space until they are ready to settle into their own flats.

Last year, there was a theory afloat in German intellectual circles stating that the number nine has a specific role in German history. The idea was that most of the major events of the German twentieth century happened in years terminating in nine: 1919 was the Treaty of Versailles, which almost directly gave birth to the declaration of the Second World War in 1939. After that, 1949 saw the division of Germany made official and, forty years later in 1989, the fall of the Berlin Wall reunified the country.

Saying hi courtesy of Aidan Jones (Flickr)

We all know that learning another language is hard work. Even after over twelve years getting to grips with German, I still hear myself make the odd mistake – infuriatingly often in the very simple territory that I was supposed to have conquered many years back. Nevertheless, after having lived here for a while, simple things like greetings and pleasantries usually just roll off the tongue without requiring too much effort – “Guten Tag” and “Wie geht es Ihnen?” and so forth.

There’s a school of thought that says the best way to get good at a language is to concentrate on the words that can’t be translated. In so doing, you really get into the mindset of the speakers of that language – and so can speak like them, too.

So when learning German, you should definitely take some time to look at the word Bildung. Don’t worry: it’s not completely and utterly untranslatable like Fahrvergnügenserfassungsbogen (lit. “driving enjoyment questionnaire form”); no, Bildung can in fact frequently be translated with one word – education. This is especially the case in politically charged slogans such as “Bildung ist der Gesellschaft höchstes Gut”, or “Society’s most important asset is education”.

Photo: Flickr, myboeckmann

Just a couple of weeks back on the third of October, Germany celebrated the twentieth year of its reunification; and in November, the coming twentieth anniversary of the Fall of the Berlin Wall will be a further occasion for reflection on the German story – and some more celebrations, of course.

For me, however, one of the more interesting anniversaries will be in 2014, when Deutsche Bahn, Germany’s biggest train operator, celebrates its own twentieth birthday.

After having taken a look at the Hermannsdenkmal last week, I stayed overnight in Detmold, the nearest town. It’s a small, provincial place which, despite its exceptionally well-preserved old centre and attractive castle, has never quite made it into the big leagues of German day-trip destinations. That honour seems – in terms of medieval cities – to be have been reserved for Lübeck, Münster and Bamberg.

Yet, as I found out, the Detmolders are not disheartened, and are making a concerted effort to use the attention that the two-thousandth anniversary of the gigantic Varusschlacht – you know, the one from the start of Gladiator –has focused on the area to try and parley their neat little old-town into a big tourist attraction.