Friendly faces

Yesterday evening, someone knocked on our door. When I opened, there was a young man standing in front of me with a bottle of wine in his hand. Viktor, as he introduced himself, had recently moved into the apartment below ours and wanted to welcome us in our new home.

I was surprised by this friendly gesture and at the same time frustrated because we are only temporary renters and this neighbourly effort will be nipped in the butt once we move on to our final home.

But Viktor didn’t seem to mind his lost investment but added even more friendliness to the count. He asked if we had internet access and when he heard that we used one of those mobile sticks, he offered us access to his Wifi connection.

In he came – but only after carefully wiping his shoes so he wouldn’t dirty the carpet – and wrote down the password for his router. Just like that.

So there’s only one question left to ask: What is going on here? What happened to the majority of grumpy, yes, punctual, but also miserable and ever so serious Germans? Have they been assimilated by an alien, yet friendly life form from outer space?

Because Victor is no isolated case. Since coming back to Germany at the beginning of the year I keep bumping into so many good-humoured, relaxed, courteous and sympathetic people that it’s getting scary. The lady at the bakery wished me a nice day, the taxi driver struck up an interesting conversation, the guy at the car dealership cracked a good joke, and the waitress in the café the other day actually seemed to like her job.

Has Germany fundamentally changed during the last six years while I was away? Or does everyone here only appear super nice because I am comparing people with the often sullen and slightly haughty porteños in Buenos Aires?

Well, one thing is for sure. This episode showed me that I definitely picked up a bad habit during my time in South America. I have become very suspicious. When Viktor told me his story and then entered the flat to write down the password a little voice at the back of my head whispered: “He probably doesn’t live here and is going to rob you any minute.” Hm, perhaps it is a good thing I came back to Germany so I can stock up again on this "new" positive attitude.

I will keep you posted.

Pix of the Week

Helau in Mainz - Early Birds Special

Adventure Germany

When going abroad expats often receive an intercultural training to learn about their new living environment and how not to alienate everybody they meet. The other day I heard that these courses also exist for so-called inpats who return from their foreign assignment. I had to giggle at the thought and asked myself: “How hard can it be coming back home?”

After the first couple of days I would like to take that back. We have only been away for six years and travelled to Germany regularly during that time, so I cannot really speak of a culture shock. But still, this country has changed a lot. Or perhaps I have.

Let’s take the garbage disposal. Germany has always been a role model when it comes to recycling which usually drove our expat friends nuts – or at least caused some furiously raised eyebrows.

But I grew up with it and the concept was so deeply rooted in my system that I used to smuggle the plastic bottles in Barcelona past our caretaker Juan and carried them to the recycling bins at the street corner because I had the sneaking suspicion that he just threw them out with the regular garbage. In Buenos Aires, I diligently separated paper, plastic bottles and glass, only to have our cleaning lady stuff everything in one big plastic bag. I just didn’t have the energy to argue with her.

But perhaps this was the final warning sign that I was giving in to the dark side and that it was high time that I came back to the country where recycling has been turned into an art form or philosophy, depending on the perspective. And boy, do I need a refresher course, perhaps by an intercultural coach who will patiently explain what goes in which bin.

We are renting a temporary flat in Wiesbaden until we find a permanent place and our things arrive from Argentina. Behind the house I found a flotilla of trash containers. One for paper, one for glass, one for plastics – that’s quite easy to determine – then another one for bio-degradables and one for the rest. Hm, is soggy kitchen paper biowaste or does it belong in the paper bin? Do I have do separate the bottom of the joghurt container made of cardboard from the plastic sideparts. And what shall I do with the leftover joghurt? Is that bio??

Knowing that the Germans, and especially the German garbage collectors and inspectors – yes, the latter exist – really mean business, it is only a question of time until I am found out and shot at dawn. But this is only a fair punishment for my laughing at the above-mentioned expat friends. And I would also like to take back the “How hard can it be separating the garbage” that I might have asked you about six or seven years ago. I hear you now.

And I will of course keep you posted.

Listo, beso, chau - Goodbye, Buenos Aires!

First of January – the start of a new year. For me, this day also marks the start of yet another phase in my life. It is my last day in Buenos Aires, and for the time being, my last day on the expat circuit. I am sitting in board of the Lufthansa flight 510 that will take my husband and me back to Germany. Back home.

Everybody I talked to recently said: “Oh, you must be thrilled going home and leaving this chaotic place.” And I had to reply: “Hm, I am not so sure … yes and no.” Of course, there are tons of good reasons for being happy about going back. Things are more organized in Germany, you don’t have to worry about electricity or water supply, people speak my language, the bread variety is to die for … and most importantly I will be closer to my lifelong friends and my family. 

But in spite of all those good reasons, my heart is taking its sweet time catching up. I am sad to leave Buenos Aires and the friends I have made in this crazy place. And I liked living abroad and seeing things done differently – or just from a different perspective. I learned a lot during the past six years, first in Barcelona and then in Argentina. I broadened my horizon and changed – and I will try to take all this with me to my hopefully new old life in Germany.

So this LH 510 is not only carrying our mountain of suitcases but a huge bag full of mixed memories, sadness and tears, hopes and resolutions for the future, fears and uncertainties … and the sneaking suspicion that we will be back to Buenos Aires sooner than we think.

Goodbye, Buenos Aires. Take good care of yourself and the people that are now in our thoughts and hearts. Cuídate … y nos vemos.

Un abrazo!

The House in Montevideo

My grandmother’s globe was not the only source of inspiration for that list of must-see places that I started as a child. Movies also played a big part. One of them was the German black and white comedy “The house in Montevideo” from the Fifties in which a very respectable and conservative professor travels to Montevideo with his daughter to organize the estate of his late sister. The movie never showed any part of Montevideo because all the scenes took place inside but the storyline and the exotic sound of the name woke my curiosity. Montevideo in Uruguay! Who can resist that combination?

From Buenos Aires it’s only a three-hours ferry ride or an even shorter 45-minutes flight away so I had to go and see as long as it is that close. To make the idea even more tempting a German friend who had lived in Montevideo for a year had offered to come with us and show us around.

We went only for a weekend but managed to make the most of it. After landing at the airport – for whatever strange reasons the flight to Montevideo was cheaper than taking the Buquebus – we checked into a hotel in Pocitos. This neighborhood is a bit outside of the historic city center but has a very friendly feel to it, and since Montevideo is not really big and taxis don’t cost a fortune getting around is pretty easy. We opted for the sporty alternative, though, and rented bicycles for a first tour along the Rambla and through the city’s old part of town.

The weather played along with sunny blue skies and high temperatures of around 30 degrees. Other than Buenos Aires, where these numbers usually come along with an an oppressive humidity, Montevideo can boast of a nice breeze that made our bicycle tour almost a piece of cake. That and the fact that drivers in Uruguay actually take notice of pedestrians and bikers and are willing to use their breaks.

We noticed another difference when eating out. While restaurants in Buenos Aires seem to shy away from fish dishes, Montevideo is all pro-seafood, and we enjoyed a very nice meatless dinner – and a fantastic sunset view across the bay - at Hemingway restaurant. Of course, we also tried the Uruguayan steak and tested how meat is treated on the other side of the Rio de la Plata. What better place for this than the Mercado del Puerto, an old converted market hall with numerous restaurants that offer barbequed goodies.

Another must-see in Montevideo is the Sunday flea market where you can buy everything from fruit, vegetables, books, records, clothes, spare parts for all kinds of machines and tools, furniture and what else you might need. Since all our belongings had already been packed up for shipping before Christmas, buying anything was out of the question - otherwise we might have been tempted by some of the semi-antiques on offer.

We returned to Buenos Aires by Buquebus and were lucky enough to cross over in the Francisco – the brand new vessel called after Pope Francisco. Not so much lucky because the trip was extra spiritual in that boat but because the new ferry is pretty fast and takes only a little over two hours. And the seats are actually quite comfy.

Which brings me back to “The house in Montevideo”. Why? Because a ship plays an important role in the movie’s storyline. And because I am trying to compare the picture I had painted in my mind of Montevideo as a child with the city I visited last weekend. Is there any resemblance? No, not really. The movie was all clichés and stereotypes so I had imagined Montevideo as a South American version of Cannes, with palm trees and glamorous villas, ceiling fans and men in white linen suits. The real Montevideo of today is a curious, relaxed mix of colonial prettiness, architectural monstrosities from the Sixties and Seventies, the typical high-rise buildings from recent years, and a picturesque coastline with numerous beaches and rocky cliffs. People are dressed very casual and wear their thermos and mate equipment rather than a Panama hat. And since they always insist that they are not at all like the Porteños on the other side of the Rio de la Plata, I will not even try a comparison.

I like Montevideo – not only for it’s exotic name but for it’s laid-back and friendly atmosphere. I am glad we hopped over – if only because we couldn’t have asked for a better tour guide. And I am planning to order “The house in Montevideo” on DVD as soon as I get back to Germany. I am curious how the cliché feels after seeing the real thing.

I will of course keep you posted

Merry Christmas 2013

Just for the record: We are not on a crazy hunt for air miles. We are simply trying to squeeze some of the items on our original South American tourist agenda for 2014 into the last remaining weeks of 2013. And Bariloche sounded like a good place to spend this year’s Christmas.

Bariloche is located at the shores of the Lago Nahuel Huapi and a good starting point for exploring the Argentinean Lake District. Some say that it is like Switzerland and we shouldn’t bother, others say that it is the most beautiful area of Argentina. We decided to take a look for ourselves and are very happy to have gone. (Besides, we have never been to Switzerland so we couldn’t compare.)

Bariloche itself is a friendly little town with a good infrastructure, tons of quaint stores that sell chocolate, and a selection of good restaurants. The majority of the houses are built in an alpine style, and the abundance of Saint Bernard dogs in the city centre makes you believe that Heidi and Peter will stroll around the corner anytime. The fact that these dogs belong to enterprising townspeople that will charge you money for having your picture taken with them puts a little damper on the quaintness. 

But the main attraction of Bariloche is the amazingly beautiful scenery along the various lakes. We had decided to explore on our own, and on the day of Christmas Eve we took our rental for a spin along the Small Circuit Tour on the San Pedro and Llao Llao Peninsulas. The round is only about 70 km long, but with all the stops along the way to take pictures, a short hike to the famous Arrayan Trees, a quick drink at the lobby bar of the Llao Llao Hotel to ogle the grounds and the grand interior, and a lunch break in Colonia Suiza, we barely made it back to Bariloche to chill for bit on the sunny terrace and get ready for our Christmas Eve Dinner at the restaurant El Patacon.

On Christmas Day, we tackled the longer Ruta de los Siete Lagos, driving along the Ruta 40 to Villa La Angostura and San Martín de los Andes. The picturesque villages were a bit deserted because of the bank holiday but even with the shops closed it was quite obvious why these places are so popular. And we didn’t mind the fact that with everybody at home and probably enjoying the Christmas Asado, we had the road almost to ourselves. 

All in all, it was again a strange Christmas. We had already come to the conclusion last year that for us, summer temperatures and Christmas do not go together. Now we learnt that not even an alpine scenery can make up for that. But these have been strange weeks anyway, so this Christmas in sunny warm Bariloche without the rest of the family fit right. And I would have hated to miss this beautiful part of Argentina.

I hope you all had a very peaceful and happy Christmas and wish you all the best for 2014!

Pix of the Week

Buenos Aires in full bloom

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 Buenos Aires in voller Blüte

Travel notes: Cancun

After thinking back and forth, thumbing numerous travel guidebooks and weighing our options, we decided to spend our two-week vacation in Mexico. We just weren’t up to preparing an agenda, going on a tour, driving around, or doing sightseeing. Instead, we flew to Mexico City, spent a weekend with our favorite Japanese-Brazilian friends in D.F. and went on to Cancun for an 11 days all inclusive beach vacation. This is usually not our scene but it was the best decision we have taken in a long time.

We enjoyed the sun, swam in the turquoise water of the Carribean, took long walks along the picture-perfect beach, had a few Margaritas, slept late, ate great food, did sports, lay reading under an beach umbrella for hours … and just relaxed.

The husband had to call into a few work-related telephone conferences and I organized our temporary apartment for the first two months in Germany, but apart from that we were just obscenely lazy. It was perfect, and we actually managed to disconnect and recharge before the relocation madness picks up speed.

I will keep you posted on that.

A similar post

Travel Notes: Rio de Janeiro

One last time - Feria de Mataderos

A certain phrase is starting to creep into our daily conversations, which goes something like “Before we leave we should … (fill in the blanks) … one last time.” And each time, a slightly panicky look appears in the husband’s eyes when he realizes that I am cramming yet another item into the list of places we should visit or the things we have to do before the year is over.

Last Sunday, our plans for the day met his full approval, though, and that was our last visit to the street market of Mataderos. Mataderos is a neighborhood on the outskirts of Buenos Aires and known for its numerous butchers and slaughterhouses, but also for the weekly street market and gaucho festival. It is not as touristy as the San Telmo Market – probably due to the fact that getting there is a bit more complicated – but if you are on the lookout for shopping and authentic local flair, this is the place to go.

The selection of mate cups, leather goods and other souvenirs is extensive, and I always had the impression that the stalls offer more variety than elsewhere. In addition, you can shop for souvenirs of the culinary kind in Mataderos and buy wine, homemade schnapps, jams, honey, cheese, sausages, meat, and other delicacies.

If you get hungry, numerous food stands give you the chance to stuff yourself silly with regional specialties like locro, empanadas, tamales, humitas, and of course with meat in all forms and sizes. And if you are still hungry after that you will for sure find a pancake baker who will top it off up with Dulce de Leche.

In case this is still not enough entertainment for the day, just wait for some folklore band or singer to take the stage. You can either watch and listen or get down on it and join the dancer that get together on the main square.

All in all the Feria de Mataderos is worth the drive. Oh, and one piece of good advice: Watch your belongings at all times! The pickpockets are pretty nimble, and it was there that the husband "lost his ID" (In dire straits) which he then had to apply for all over again. Well, perhaps he really lost it, but being careful doesn’t hurt.

During that last visit, we managed to stock up on gifts and souvenirs, had a few farewell empanadas salteñas and even witnessed a speech for one of the old-timers who had always attended the Feria and who had passed away recently. We had seen the gentleman before and almost felt like part of the family. When it was time to go we tried shake of that sad feeling of "Oh, we will probably never come here again", inhaled one last whiff of barbecue smoke and took another look at the colorful displays. Pretty, ey?    

All that art

Once the decision to go back to Germany had been taken and communicated we kicked-off the preparations for the actual move. We told our landlord that we would be leaving at the end of the year, we booked that one-way ticked to Frankfurt and the movers took stock of our household that will be shipped out and back to Europe before Christmas. Well, hopefully.

Boy, am I glad, that we don’t have to organize everything ourselves but get help from the relocators. The list of necessary paperwork is daunting and all those copies, translations and authentications that have to be presented at customs is something else. But the masterpiece comes from the Ministry of Culture. We have to register every original piece of art in our possession that is a painting or made of wood, stone, terracotta etc.

So yesterday, I spent two hours with a girl from the movers cataloguing the art in our house. And believe me, I had no idea that we were such artsy people! She took pictures with her mobile, measured everything and also wrote down the author, the year and the title – or made up something in case I just didn’t know.

What is considered art is something else, and for two hours I was torn between hysterical laughter, an amazed Really?? and outright frustration. At one point I wanted to scream “Have you lost your mind in this country?!” and throw her out of the house. But then again, she was a nice person and quite apologetic and it wasn’t really her fault, so I kept my mouth shut.

But the totally mind-numbing thing is that I still don’t understand why we have to do it. We didn’t register our stuff like that when we entered the country three years ago, so how will the Ministry determine what’s really ours and what we might try to smuggle out of the country illegally? And if all this is only a measure to prevent the out-of-hand exportation of Argentinean art, why do we have to register every Mexican figurine bought at a street market in Chiapas or even the cheap pencil sketch that we brought back from Vietnam long before we even dreamt of moving to Buenos Aires?

Well, I asked a friend who moved back last year and already went through the motions. He just laughed, told me not to worry and advised me to let the movers take the pictures and handle the red tape. Am I worried? Well, not really. Hm, yeah, I admit, I am a little bit worried. Especially when I imagine our stuff being held up at customs, moulding away in a container at the Buenos Aires harbor until they release it sometime in September 2014.  But then again, we aren’t the first who move out of here, right?

No, what really bugs my little nitpicking German heart is the question Why? Why … how, I mean, it’s really … it doesn’t make any sense … why, please, why!?! I keep turning it over and over in my mind, and it still doesn’t make any sense. None whatsoever. The only explanation I can come up with is that it is either a big occupational therapy for a lot of public servants. Or that it is all a big heist and there are some brown envelopes involved in the process that keep everyone happy.

Both scenarios would be very sad, indeed. Well, I guess, I will never find out the truth … and this is probably for the better. In the meantime, I try to keep calm and stop imagining all the things that might go wrong. Wish me luck!

I will of course keep you posted.

A similar post

In dire straits

Pix of the week

Buenos Aires at night
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Buenos Aires bei Nacht

Street Art Buenos Aires

Every weekend, we try to take a long walk through the neighborhood. This usually leads us to an extensive path along the Rio de la Plata where people picnic or do all kinds of sports like jogging, cycling or blading. Some parts are not that pretty, especially around the local villa – the shantytown along the tracks of the Tren de la Costa. And the concept of collecting ones garbage and not throw everything into the bushes is still foreign to some in this country. But in general the shore is nice and we enjoy the scenery, especially the graffiti along the way. Chck it out.