The Little Prince

As we sat at the outdoor cafe drinking coffee on the Maxstraße, by she looked away and said "Ich habe viele erlebt," "I've experienced a great deal." Fatima and I were surrounded by German families, children shrieking as they played in the fountain nearby. When she said that, when she looked away, I could tell she wasn't present in the moment, but was remember things, recalling her work with the Red Crescent in Homs or her family's journey from Syria through Turkey to seek asylum in Germany. We had otherwise been speaking lightheartedly of learning German and our favorite foods, yet this moment helped remind me of something I'd pushed to the back of my mind.

Since my arrival, I have worried so much about communication and making connections, about finding people who will help me and who can contribute to the work I'm doing here. This moment with Fatima reminded me of the "why," the reason I've traveled so far for this work. But it also helped me to remember that refugees themselves are perhaps the best equipped to help one one another.  Fatima has indeed experienced a lot. But those experiences, and her skills in learning German, in navigating the systems here, in volunteering in her home country, these are what help to make her such an important asset, both to Germany and to her fellow refugees. While I may have a good education and a lot of resources, it is important to also remember what I lack: experience as a refugee. This is what I must keep in the back of my mind as the project develops-it is crucial to harness the energy and experience of the people I am meeting and assist them in channeling it effectively.

Fatima looked back at me, "Aber, ja, alles ist gut, lhamduallah,"  "But yes, everything is ok, thank God." "lhamduallah," "thank God," I replied. And our conversation shifted back to our troubles in learning German, remember the articles and the accusative and dative tenses. She turned and pulled a small book out of her purse: Der Kleine Prinz, The Little Prince. I smiled, "one of my favorites," I told her. "Me too," she said. I found it very fitting that she was reading this book, authored by a man fleeing war and destruction in France during the Second World War. 

"The little prince sat down on a stone, and raised his eyes toward the sky.
'I wonder,' he said, 'whether the star are set alight in heaven so that one day each one of us may find his own again...Look at my planet. It is right there above us. But how far away it is!'"

"If you obey all the rules, you miss all the fun." -Katherine Hepburn

There seem to be a lot of rules here in Germany. And I don't mean that in a stereotypical way, but more because it is a foreign country. Things that seem to be natural or obvious to people here seem like secret rules and codes to me, a person who is not familiar with how things are done. I go about my daily work and life trying my best to follow all of these "rules"-keep all the doors in the house closed (even the bathroom when no one is in it...when you're in it, you're supposed to lock it which I somehow usually manage to forget), clink your cups together when you drink at the same time as someone else and definitely don't cross the street when you don't have a walk sign, even if there are really really not any cars coming.

And then there are the overt rules and laws here: shops close by early evening, no shops are open in the evening on Saturday or at all on Sunday; registering as a student at the university has about 623 steps; banks will be closed during their 1.5 hour long lunch break; trash is separated...like really separated: yellow bag for plastic, compostables in another bin, paper in yet another and brown, white and green glass all go somewhere different; and you'd really best not even try to go into the library with a backpack on, or with a water bottle that can't be seen through. I tried to do both, and let's just say I ended up reading in the cafeteria.

Those who know me will know that I generally like rules. I think they help keep things orderly. I follow most rules. I do, however, feel totally fine breaking or not following rules that I think are stupid. It gets a little murky though when I am not aware of the rules and start breaking them right and left. When I intentionally break a rule, I am fully prepared with an explanation if confronted. When I do it accidentally, I get rather flustered. To be fair, I probably could do with being a little more observant and try to pick up on rules before I blunder through a situation. In my short time here and upon some reflection on rules, I do think that not following or breaking the rules, whether intentionally or not, can foster discussions and further understanding. I am attending a birthday party this weekend, and asked colleagues and roommates if there was anything that would be a faux-pas to bring. There isn't (save a "Hitler mustache"), so I'm bringing an American-style cake.  

Final note: I have jumped into my exploration of strange local foods. While I'm pretty sure this chocolate is breaking most of the rules, I couldn't resist getting it. Guten Appetit- except I think I'm supposed to say that to other people? Whatever, I'm just excited to eat a tortilla chip.

Bavaria-that's where I want to be!

Spring and I arrived together in Bayreuth. Since I walked out of the small airport in Nuremberg, the weather has been absolutely perfect. 70s, sunny, a gentle breeze. And the inhabitants of Bayreuth have been out in droves. The town is quaint, as many German towns are-there are cobblestone streets, cafes, old buildings and huge parks. There is a train station, a few museums, two opera houses (because, let's be real here, one just isn't good enough). There are clock towers and six palaces, including one with a magnificent garden in which I spent the better part of the afternoon today. Before my arrival, I had been told that Bayreuth was small, tiny even. I would very much disagree. With nearly 70,000 people and 13,000 students at the University, the town is thriving and diverse.

I've done my best to explore in the last few days. I've gotten lost enough times to finally be able to find my way home from the main places in the city. I found at least ten ATMs after not finding any for almost an hour. I'm excited for the State Garden Show which is being held in Bayreuth this year. I'm still not quite sure all that is involved in this, but it sounds like there are interesting things going on. I've eaten both Spaghetti Eis (ice cream that is made to look like spaghetti...it's delicious, I promise) and white asparagus, a German specialty. I'm excited to spend sunny evenings continuing to walk around and explore. And also to try Senor Taco, the local Mexican? restaurant, which I'm sure I'll get a kick out of.


While this is not my first time in Germany, it is my first time here alone. It is also my first time here after a significant gap in German language classes. So far, everything seems to be somewhat familiar and yet, simultaneously, not familiar at all. I am slowly recalling things-phrases, nuances, prepositions, foods-that I once knew or learned. But there are also things I have completely forgotten to the point that they are unknown. Phrases are coming back frustratingly slowly, and are often mixed with Arabic ones. I responded with "la" instead of "nein" to a store clerk yesterday. I have resolved to speak much more German with those around me, especially my roommates and colleagues. It's all to easy in this place to get by on English alone, though I feel as though I can't leave this internship without improving my German.


Work is coming along. There are a few developments which seem quite exciting and which I will write more about later. This week I'll begin meeting with people to help establish more definite responsibilities and tasks for my time here. I will also finally get a SIM card and maybe decide which pair of Birkenstocks to buy.