Lena Gamper is a 19-year-old college student from Stuttgart, Germany, who is spending part of her summer in Eugene visiting family. This is the second of a five-part series examining the cultural differences between Germany and Eugene (and America as a whole).
The Driving
This is not my first time in the U.S., but there was one thing in particular I was really excited about this visit. For the first time, I would get to drive on American streets myself. Consequently, the first thing I wanted to do when I was picked up at the airport was to sit behind the steering wheel on the way back. I didn’t even think about possible differences in the American driving that I should be aware of, before putting myself in the driver’s seat. I should have been though.
First of all, what were all these letters supposed to stand for on the stick shift? Where the hell was the sequence of the gears?
That’s when I realized: Oh right, I’m in America, most people barely know how to drive in the first place, not even automatic cars (stereotype #1!); they won’t have stick-shift cars around here too often.
And my guessing turned out to be accurate. Unlike us Germans, who would already have their first driving lesson with a stick-shifted car, most Americans drive automatic cars. And let me tell you something, they truly are taking their time while doing it. Thus, I had just overcome my first setback to the pleasant anticipation for driving by accepting the fact that I couldn’t shift myself, which is the actual fun part about driving to me.
Once I got on the street, I instantly had to suffer my second setback: Why was everything moving this slow? Compared to the Autobahn back in Germany, where there is no speed limit at all for most of its length, this was slow-motion to me. A stop sign on every corner, people driving in the left lane although they are going 25 mph, not being able to get gas at a fuel station myself, and these crazy entrance-and-exit-at-the-same-time merges. All the sudden, the excitement about driving wasn’t as exciting anymore.
The ‘I Love You’
It was just yesterday when it happened to me again. I went grocery shopping and this random person passed me, talking on the phone. Nothing unusual of course, considering the amount of time people spend talking or texting on their phones here (stereotype #2). Coincidentally however, I caught the very end of the conversation: “Bye Mom, Love ya.”
Stumble.
I look up and stare at the person. Did he just say this? Just saying it out loud? Just like that? Knowing I’m here right next to him and being able to hear him say it? Just right after talking about something mundane as a shopping list? Seriously?
This has happened to me so many times. And even though you might think I should have gotten used to it in the meantime, I haven’t. I still stop whatever I am doing and just stare. I almost feel like this is a rude reaction, since nobody wants to be stared at, but I can’t help it. I keep catching myself doing it whenever I hear those notorious three words. It is something inside of me that doesn’t allow me to ignore the use of them in abundance. This ‘something’ inside of me that I could feel is a German feature, as I had to find out.
I figured out that I am just not used to it. In Germany, you would never express your feelings in a public space like a grocery store. It would be considered both not the appropriate place and not even close to an appropriate occasion for it. There is no intensification to “I love you.” Once you choose to tell a person you love him or her, that’s it. You reached the climax of expressing your feelings, at least referring to a German majority. Therefore, these words almost seem too holy to share on an every day basis and instead there always has to be given a good reason or a special moment.
Soon I was exposed to these “I love you” situations myself, which really put me in an extremely awkward position and which embarrassed me deeply, because I simply didn’t know how to respond to them. I remember every detail of my first encounter of this kind. Unprepared as I was, I said “Thank You.” Well, I was polite. Thank you, Germany, for teaching me manners at least (stereotype #3).
After this incident however, I started asking myself:
Isn’t it sad that I have such difficulty to respond to something so beautiful? Is there always a special occasion necessary in order to tell somebody how you feel?
And I decided for myself that there is nothing wrong about a boy saying “Love ya” to his mom even though he is going to see her as soon as he is done getting all ingredients for tonight’s barbecue (stereotype #4). No, in fact, I learned to appreciate the courage to say those three words out loud as often as one can. Why not let the people know how important they are in my life? I don’t want to be waiting for a special occasion anymore. Anything can happen tomorrow, so I started taking advantage of today instead.
Thank you for that, America. I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you…