“When I use a word,” Humpty Dumpty said in rather a scornful tone, “it means just what I choose it to mean – neither more nor less.”
“The question is,” said Alice, “whether you can make words mean so many different things.”
“The question is,” said Humpty Dumpty, “which is to be master - - that’s all.”
I spent the past two days at an off-site meeting at a hotel in Frankfurt with my new team and some colleagues in from the US and the rest of Europe. I was largely surrounded by either native German speakers, or people who had learned, and could speak the language fluently. The meeting was in English, but side conversations frequently devolved from English to Germlish to full on-German. Me being me, I tried to listen closely to add to my (small) arsenal of words. So, what did I learn?
I learned that I really need formal lessons.
1) I still cannot handle the word for Excuse me. It’s “entschuldigen”. Doesn’t exactly roll-off the tongue. And when you bump into someone, the first thought isn’t “let me translate quickly”. So I ended up mumbling either “Sorry, sorry!”, “Bitte” (which means please) or “Pardon” (said in a French accent as my brain would go into language spasms and spit out the first language it learned). One time I did manage the “Entshul–” part before just giving up, and basically saying “Entshulde-scuse me”.
2) I really, really need help with pronunciation. I was telling some colleagues about the trip that Wendi and I took to Zugspitze. I kept getting blank looks. I doubled down on the “zzz” sound. Blank looks. Added in few “hhhhhhghhh” sounds (as Germans seem to be fond of this noise). Still blank looks. Exasperation set in. “You know,” I said, “The highest point in Germany?”
“Ohhhhhhh!!!” Came the replies. “You mean ZUGSPITZE!”.
Me: “Yes, Zugspitze.”
Germans: “Ehhh, no. It’s Zugspitze.”
Anyway, after a lot of back and forth (and a beer or two), turns out that the “z” in German is not a “zzzzeeee” sound or even a “zzzz”. It’s more of a “tscchhh”, which results in the word sounding more like “tshoogspitsuh”. Which of course sounds perfectly reasonable AFTER the explanation.
3) I’ve been told I have a very expressive face and very expressive mannerisms. This has come in handy before (i.e. when I forgot the French word for lobster - homard - and did my best claw-hands interpretation in Paris), and it continues to serve me well here. I had my colleagues in tears explaining my recent trip to the supermarket to buy a rotisserie chicken.
There is a counter right in the front of the Reve (grocery store) and within lie all sorts of yummy goodies. Lots of schnitzel-y stuff and a whole tray of golden roasted, NORMAL-SIZED chickens. For just 3,50 Euro. And I wanted one in my belly. Now, the German word for chicken is Hähnchen. I knew this. (HOW exactly I knew this I’m not sure, but I have never ceased being surprised by my ability to almost unconsciously absorb foreign names for food and drink - shows my priorities, I suppose!) The problem was I did not know how to say it. That magic a with the umlaut (two dots above) was a mystery. So I guessed. Wrongly.
Me: “Ein haaaanshen, bitte.” (Proud smile)
Woman behind the counter: “Entschuldigen, was?” (at least that’s what I THINK she said)
Me: “Haaaansheen! Bitte!” (Embarassed to say I spoke loudly and slowly)
Woman: (doesn’t speak, just begins pointing at the various things in the case, hoping that I will identify what I want and let her get on with her life)
Me: (pointing to the chicken) “Haaaansheen!” And then for added measure, I did the first part of the chicken dance - you know where you use your arms to make the wings. And yes, that worked, although she didn’t even crack a smile.
Turns out, after my boss stopped laughing, he explained that the word is actually pronounced “hENshin” (almost rhyming with pension). I maintained that the woman HAD to know what I was trying to say, but these Germans are a very literal sort.
4) I also learned that despite what Mozart might suggest with his “eine kleine nachtmusik”, one does NOT normally pronounce the “e” at the end of “eine”. I had been going around saying “ayn-eh”. It’s just “ayn”. Of course, until it isn’t (like in the song). Weird grammar rules, although I know English has its own idiosyncrasies so I cannot complain too much.
5) I got some insight into the hilarity of new-immigrant speak. I have encountered many a German who spoke like a modern-day Yoda, putting the verb at the end of a request. “I can big water please have?” and such. Well, this is because in German, the verb most often is at the end. For example, “Can I please have the water?” becomes “Kann ich bitte das Wasser habe?” or literally “Can I please the water have?”. Knowing this makes it much easier to deconstruct sentences and try to figure out what I’m hearing.
Unfortunately, I’ve yet to find a good German translation for “Ain’t nobody got time for that”. The best I’ve gotten is “Hat Niemand Zeit dafür” - which literally is “Nobody has time for it.” Not quite the same flair.
6) Finally, and I think this is the best… We had breakout sessions (typical of the meetings I attend), and to get to one of the rooms involved going through a few doors and up some stairs at the hotel. I noticed, on my way, a sign reading “NOT AUSGANG”. I interpreted “ausgang” as exit, which was fundamentally correct - and my brain then interpreted “not” as, well, “not”. So I read the door in my head as “Don’t exit” or that leaving through that door was prohibited. I didn’t think much of it until it occurred to me that it was odd that German used the word “not” like we do, as I thought prohibitions generally used the stronger “verboten” (forbidden). So I brought this up to my boss and a few co-workers. Again, riotous laughter.
Turns out, it wasn’t two words - it was ONE word, “Notausgang” which translates to “Emergency Exit”. As is typical with many German words, it is a compound of two separate words - “not”, which means “distress” and “ausgang” which means “output” - so, literally, “distress output” (which makes sense when you think about it). The running joke was then that if there was a fire, the news would report that a lone American perished and then everyone was imagining me running the floors only to keep finding doors marked “not exit”.
On the upside, though, the language center of my brain IS kicking in like I thought it might. I’ve always been good with languages and if I’m surrounded by one for at least a week, I start intuitively picking up words and putting them together. I have read up on this, and my brain is essentially doing a bargain-basement version of what a baby does - but the difference is like a 1200bps modem versus today’s cable internet. It’s happening, but slowly and with lots of false flags and stops and starts. But
I was very excited today when I stopped by the store to pick up a few items and I was able to check out my goods all in German. To be fair, it’s pretty intuitive that the cashier will say hello, but I understood when asked me for my points card (which I managed to get, all on my own!!! - which is an entirely other story for another day), and I also understood when she asked me if I needed my receipt. I wasn’t able to answer more than “Guten Tag, ja, nein, danke” - but it’s a start. I then was able to buy a roll of pretzel bread (I seriously need to STOP with the bread, it’s becoming a problem) all in German as well. Again not hard - “Eine bretzelbroten, bitte” but it’s a start.
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