In addition to the landlord issues, another not so fun thing happened with the kids the other day. The girls have been more likely to go out walking in the neighborhood since we moved here than they ever were at the house in Stuttgart. The only place they ever went in our neighborhood there was to the little shop/gas station down the street to buy packaged ice cream, because that was the only place there was to go. Here at the new place, there are three bakeries, a drug store, a castle with a lovely park and an ice cream shop, all within walking distance of the house so they’re more likely to go out and about a couple of times a week or so.

All was good until the other day when they went on their usual “bakery-then-ice-cream-then-to-the-park” walkabout. Some punk kids shouted anti-American obscenities at them outside the ice cream shop because they heard them speaking English between themselves. Evidently these were fairly young children, but if the children are spouting it, you can surely figure out where they’ve learned it. I realize these are just kids, but it seems this little town has some residents that don’t like Americans so much.

I should note that we’ve been very lucky to have escaped this type of attitude for the 14 years we’ve lived in Germany, but that doesn’t make it feel any nicer. In France, yes, it’s almost a given thing that Americans are not well liked (especially when a bus load of us descended on a restaurant one night during a Paris tour; some French patrons actually left, loudly complaining “Too many stars and stripes in here!” on their way out the door) but I’ve never experienced this is Germany, nor have my children ever been on the receiving end of such anti-American sentiments, at least not so overtly.

The sad thing is that the girls are now a bit uncomfortable about going out and about. I told them what to do if it ever happens again (leave the area quickly, go to a different store and explain the problem to the store clerk, and call me on the cel phone. I will drive to get them with baseball bat in hand; don’t mess with my kids), but they’re probably going to stick close to home for the nonce. The next few times they want ice cream, either ITMan will have to walk with them, or I’ll maybe take them by in the car on the way home from some other outing. It’s not like they’re young, they’re 11 and 16, but they’re not exactly streetwise toughs, my girls. I could probably say in all honesty that they’ve been sheltered from the ugly parts of the world as they’ve grown up, as it should be.

I’ve never really felt unsafe in Germany overall, and I do my best to blend in. Well, except for that car thing. Mustangs are sold in Germany, but not in great numbers so they’re pretty much a giveaway, but at least I do have real German license plates now, as opposed to how it used to be. When we arrived here in 1994, we had plates that were obviously only on American cars; I felt like I was wearing a sign that said “Shoot me, I’m an American” with those. I do always feel like people look at us when we’re in public, especially if we’re at restaurants talking amongst ourselves and can be overheard speaking English.

Sure, ITMan and I aren’t exactly fluent German speakers (far from it), even after living here so long, but we do try. In our defense, we never thought we’d be here this long, and I just don’t want to spend the time to learn more of it than I have. The kids are pretty good at it, with LittleOne near fluent after being in German Kindergarten for two years, and having classes since then. I could tell the kids to speak German even between themselves when they are out without parents, but that still doesn’t address the real issue, I think.

So I’m not too sure what to think about this development here in our little town. Our immediate neighbors have probably all figured out by now that we’re American, though not military, and they seem okay with it. Not that we’ve been asked to the neighborhood barbecue or anything, which is fine too, but at least they’re not throwing eggs at our house or shouting mean things as they drive by. It’s funny; the American community is soooo much larger here in the Heidelberg area than it is in Stuttgart, and yet our first experience like this happens in Heidelberg.

Maybe it’s something to do with the fact that Stuttgart is a larger, more internationalized area, with more large companies that have international employees than Heidelberg. There could be more non-DoD associated Americans in Stuttgart than Americans who are associated with the military, and maybe more Germans in the Heidelberg area just have it in for the American military and DoD associated folks, because there are soooo many of them here. In other words, in Stuttgart, German people wouldn’t automatically assume you are associated with the American military if you speak English; you could be working for DaimlerChrysler, Mercedes, Bosch, etc. and if you don’t know if someone works for the military, why target them with hatred for the American military?

Whatever it is, I’m definitely not feeling good about it all. What’s your view? Have you experienced this type of thing, whether vacationing or living abroad? How would you feel?

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Whoever cursed me, can you please retract? After six months of being in “move mode” I’m ready for some uninteresting downtime please. I just want to live my life unencumbered by drama, thank you very much. The latest? Ever since we moved in here, the landlords have been a bit weird about the mail. She kept one of the mailbox keys, because they were staying in a vacation apartment until they left for Canada, and so their mail was still being delivered here, ostensibly so that she wouldn’t have to change addresses with all these correspondents twice.

I had at least two separate mail delivery people ask about the landlords and where they were, and I tried my best to explain that they were still around but only temporarily before they went off to Canada, and that I was collecting their mail until then. She never did cough up the other mail key even when they left, so we only have one. The last day they were here (the day they finally turned over the garage keys), she said that we couldn’t tell the mail delivery people that they weren’t here, because one of the delivery companies was a private company, and they couldn’t change their address with them. HUH?? She expected that they would be getting a few more letters via this company, and that we should just accept them, and call her friend to pick them up.

Well, I was a bit nonplussed. Why should we be accepting their mail, and “not telling” the delivery people that the landlords no longer live here? When these letters showed up, they were from the Finanzamt in Sinsheim; our little town is part of the bigger Sinsheim city, and the German Finanzamt is the equivalent of the United States IRS. Stranger and stranger.

That’s where things stood when the landlady called me Friday afternoon to tell me some big story about how strange the mortgage laws are in Germany now, and that a man from their bank would be visiting the house Monday afternoon at 2:00 to have a look around inside and out. And oh, by the way, we should definitely NOT tell this banker that the landlords don’t live here. Um. What?? The landlady is sending her friend by to meet with the banker, and I should not talk with him at all, she says. Wow.

I’m not getting warm fuzzies by this time. Not at all. This banker is undoubtedly not stupid, and I’ll bet that he’ll figure out double quick that we’re American. Nothing inside my house looks German, I have a very un-Germanlike car in my garage, and when I open my mouth to say hello (well, what else am I supposed to do when I open the door??) it’ll be a dead giveaway and he won’t even need to guess. I called the housing office, since they helped us get involved with these crazy people in the first place. They recommended to answer truthfully when questioned, and contact the military legal office. Now I really don’t have warm fuzzies.

I have no idea why the landlords don’t want their tax bureau and their mortgage holder to know they don’t live here anymore, but I’ll bet it’s not a good, perfectly legal reason. I keep thinking about what it could be, and wondering if all hell will break loose shortly here, and if we’ll be forced to move house, again. I asked the housing office about that and who’d be paying for the move if it got to that point, and they said that of course, it would be our responsibility to either move ourselves or pay someone else to do it. Great. Just what I wanted to hear, but not unexpected knowing the military as I do. Of course, they should be expecting to hear us screaming about it as well if the worst happens. Not that they’ll care, but they should, IMO.

So, I’m interested to see this banker this afternoon, to see how this all goes. Interesting times indeed.

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Beaded Spider

How bad is it when I can put my arms over my head and stretch, and tear up the muscles in my back and neck so bad that I’m in pain for days? That was me on Friday morning, and the pain is still making my life miserable.

I’ve never messed up my back this bad before; well, not by just stretching for heaven’s sake! Falling down the stairs maybe, or crashing my car way back when, but not stretching! I can’t put my chin down to my chest all the way, bending it backward isn’t much better, turning my head side to side hurts, and trying to bend my neck toward my shoulder is bad too. I feel like I should be wearing one of those neck things. I feel like I’m old! Or something.

My back is better today than it was all weekend, but it’s probably going to be another week or so before it’s really back to normal and maybe longer than that. In the morning I’m much stiffer and in more pain than later in the day, and sleeping is just awful so I’m not doing much of that right now. That’s why I’m up at 5:45! Hurts too much to stay in bed. I’m supposed to drive LittleOne to her flute lesson today, but it’s probably not happening. Between the garage doors and simply driving, I’d probably be down for rest of the day afterward, if not two.

Interestingly enough, the task that bothers my back/neck least ATM is quilting. Darn. Aside from a client meeting this afternoon, thankfully via telephone, that’s my plan for the day I think. Maybe I’ll make one of these cute beaded spiders! Kimberly and I each bought one at the Arts & Crafts Shop in Stuttgart last week. They are soooo cute! Hers had a big black glass bead with white spots all over it for a body and a red head, if I remember correctly.

Now, you all might be aware that I have a major aversion to bugs, spiders, flying things, etc., but I just couldn’t resist bringing this one home to live here. There were so many cute ones, it was hard to choose! (There were also some that looked a bit too real if you know what I mean. Their bodies were just a bit too much like real spiders, so I passed on those. There are limits.) I’ll have to see if I have some big beads that I could use to make this one a companion. Oh! or maybe little beads for babies!

Have a wonderful quilty day!

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