Expat Life in Germany: A Hill News Alum’s Journey
As of today, Sept. 20, it has been 22 days since I first set foot on German soil. My partner, Brody, and I arrived at the Frankfurt airport, exhausted and sweaty and not far off from experiencing hallucinations resulting from the comestible delicacies served to us by Air Canada. We practically crawled to customs, where I was locked into my first-ever staring contest with a German citizen as my partner explained to her, the customs agent, in German, that I had a Visa to be a foreign language student beginning in November, and I was just here early. Little did I know, there were plenty more staring contests I would have to endure in the following days.
I must have intimidated the agent with my staring prowess because she quickly acquiesced to stamping our passports. We grabbed our items at the baggage claim and booked it across the airport to the train station, where we had the pleasure of hopping on the Deutsche Bahn, or the infamous German train system, for four straight hours. Although the trains here are speedy and relatively comfortable, there is no telling whether or not you will ever actually make it to your destination; Deutsche Bahn is known globally for its unpredictability: entirely canceled routes and delayed arrival times up the wazoo. And if you have luggage, forget about it. Brody and I arrived at our apartment in the city of Bielefeld, our home for the next ten months. It is situated on a relatively quiet street, which is home to mostly older couples, single adults around our age, and a few families with young children. As it turns out, a lot of German parents rear their children like my grandparents raised my own parents in the 1970s; German children run around and play in the street during the warmer months without recompense or regard for the sanity of anyone living nearby. Presumably they head home at dinner time– I have yet to discern a pattern in their collective behavior.
Our first week here was a madhouse. In between bouts of exploring the city, Brody and I purchased and assembled furniture, re-organized, and attempted to morph our tiny apartment into a true home space. At the end of the week, we had an appointment at the big, scary Bürgerberatung, or the civilian’s office, to register as residents of the city. We waited in a section of the building referred to as the “Ausländerbehörde,” or essentially, the foreigner’s authority. (imagine the backrooms: countless numbered doors and hallways with no end in sight, aggressive signage every few meters, and counters manned by vaguely pleasant civil servants with dead eyes). Luckily, we emerged from this pit of German bureaucracy having successfully registered with plenty of time to spare before our next appointment.
Truthfully, I am using this article to vent a bit about my adjustment to the German lifestyle—it probably seems to you, dear reader, as though I am not giving Germany a fair shake. Genuinely, our move abroad has been well worth the adjustment period, already. I arrived in Germany barely three months after graduating from St. Lawrence University with nary a cent in my pocket and encumbered by student loan payments. I was worried that, even with significant financial aid from my partner, I would not be able to afford living here, valuable cultural experience though it may be. What I have learned so far, though, is that necessities like public transportation and groceries and health insurance are far cheaper here than they are in the United States. College and foreign language classes are too, and you can use them to receive a Visa to study here with relative ease. Plus, you get a lot of perks here if you are a student! Living and studying here is thus extremely viable for the average post-grad drifter, especially if you know even just a little bit of German before you get here. And that is just ONE thing I love about it here so far.
Beyond that, everybody here has been extremely kind to both Brody and me. Germans definitely live up to the stereotype of appearing standoffish and uptight but incredibly courteous, humorous and sweet once you get to know them. English is their secondary language, so if you ask nicely to speak English instead, most Germans are happy to comply. They like the practice, anyway.
Lastly, the bread here is unbelievable, and the beer, wine and liquor doesn’t contain a lot of the preservatives used in American alcohol, so you aren’t (as) hungover the next day—ideal for the recovering SLU student. I vetted all of the alcoholic beverages here for you, reader, you are so welcome.
My experience here, albeit short, has been extremely positive, I highly recommend it as an option for those of you who may not be ready to enter the workforce quite yet. You have your whole life to work! It requires a lot of research and preparation, that is true— but for me, the benefits have immeasurably outweighed the costs.