Beer & Bratwurst

Thanks to the media and the internet, and because we all, as a matter of necessity, and perhaps a bit of laziness, make many of our judgments and broad assumptions based only on what we see and hear, it is conceivable that Germans have as many misconceptions about Americans as Americans have about Germans. For instance, not all Germans are tall, blonde, rude Nazis; not all Americans are tall, blonde, obnoxious cowboys. Some are, of course.
With an effort to avoid preconceptions, but based only on friendships with people who were born and raised in Germany, family who lived there for four years, and a two week visit, I can only guess what I would have been like had I been born and raised in Germany. It is an intriguing question. Are Germans and Americans (or any other group of people) so different? Is culture so important or is our humanity the simple deciding factor in our values, morals and beliefs?
Ask an American the question, “what are you?” and they might give you a list of their ancestral origins. I am Irish, Scottish, Canadian, French and American Indian. I am also an American, having been born in Maine and raised in Massachusetts. Ask a German the same question and you will likely get a much shorter answer, accompanied by a slightly puzzled expression – “I am German.” The typical German will have been born and raised not only in the same country, but likely in the same home, where it is possible they will live their whole lives.
Had I been raised with the same family, aside from nurture and nature, I would still be the same person. Or would I? In order to know who we would have been if raised in a different culture, we would first need to know how our current culture affected who we are now. That is a complicated question. How do you separate genetics and personality from culture?
Born in Germany, I might have been an Unna or a Leyna rather than a Linda, and I might have had more than one brother, even though one is more than enough. It is also likely that, had my parents still married each other, they would have gotten married later in life and have been better educated, but have earned less income than a college educated American. They would not only have been able to speak German but English, but possibly even a third or fourth language, and I would have also spoken these languages without ever subjugating verbs and memorizing syntax.
I wouldn’t have moved so many times as a child, and I might even be married with children and still living upstairs from my parents in Germany. And it is probable that I would have gone to college directly after high school. More than likely, reading would still be my favorite hobby. My collection of books, as an American, means I like to read and have some disposable income. As a German, my book collection would mark me as intelligent and middle class.
Growing up in Germany, and living in the same village my ancestors inhabited, I might have known more details about myself and my family. I might have also learned how to cook or knit from my grandmother or great grandmother. Growing up 500 miles away from most of my family in America, I learned to cook by trial and error, and I never
did learn to knit. Of course, growing up in the backyard of most of my extended family, as a German I might not have liked them as well as I like my American extended family that lives much farther away.
As a German, I would probably grocery shop every day, since the food I ate would have fewer preservatives, but I would never shop on Sundays or holidays since all the stores would be closed. I would clean house more often than I do now. I am grateful at this moment to be an American.
I would have traveled more and possibly been more rested, receiving six weeks of mandatory paid vacation in almost every job in Germany, and I wouldn’t worry about healthcare since 40% of my paycheck helped fund a national healthcare system. After serving three years in a low paid apprenticeship job, I would have probably continued working for the same company all my life. As an American, I have changed jobs only four times so far – much lower than the average American.
As a German, I would have taken different things for granted than I do as an American. Castles would not fascinate me, and I might never have known to appreciate the beauty of lace curtains at every window and seemingly endless fields of sunny, yellow mustard flowers. I, too, might think antiques are mere junk and the smallest street in the world would have been just another street to me. I would have known how to taste and enjoy wine without knowing how or where I learned to do so, and I might have missed how enjoyable eating lunch at an outdoor café could be. But as a German, I would believe there was plenty of time to learn and enjoy everything.
As an American (or just as me), I never have enough time for everything. Something is always simmering on the back burner; something always seems to suffer to make time for something else. I am more conscious of trying harder to remember to enjoy the little things and perhaps that is an American trait. But I do tend to take all of my modern conveniences for granted, wondering at the same time, why I don’t have more leisure time because of them.
It’s possible that, as a German I would have developed a taste for beer and bratwurst, been less likely to blush at public nudity, and be a better (or at least less nervous) driver. I would stand closer to people when I spoke to them, even though I wouldn’t necessarily bathe every day.
I would probably smoke or live with a smoker, and I might choose an alcoholic drink from the vending machine at work during my lunch break after having had some liquor in my breakfast coffee. I doubt I would drink as much water as I do now – a glass of water in a restaurant costs extra, and for some reason, tastes as if it was imported directly from the Atlantic Ocean. I would eat a lot more bread and cheese and a lot less junk food, but I would still love pizza. My portion sizes would probably be smaller. My car, assuming I could afford one, would also be smaller. I would be more likely to use public transportation and I probably wouldn’t own a gun, but I would own a bicycle.
It is impossible to say that all Germans are the same as our German friends. It is even impossible to say that all our German friends are alike or that we, as Americans, are so different from them. Cucumbers make Heinz Edlmayer gag, but Wolfgang Schneider loves them. My daughter’s boyfriend, of Irish descent, also hates cucumbers, but my Polish husband would eat them at every meal. Wolfgang and Heinz are both great story tellers and both love their beer, but where Heinz is boisterous and outgoing; Wolfgang is quiet and reserved; much like my outgoing daughter and my reserved self. It is also impossible to say how being German would have changed me as a person, because no matter what my culture and traditions, at the very core, I would just be me. I don’t think of Heinz and Wolfgang as Germans; I think of them as friends and they no longer think every American is a cowboy. What defines us all is not our culture, customs, or beliefs but our outlook on life, our personality and our ability to communicate with others. Eating and drinking together, sharing some laughs, telling stories and a healthy dose of respect and genuine curiosity make it is possible connect with and learn from people of all cultures, even the cucumber haters.