I'm Forever Blowing Bubbles...

…pretty bubbles in the air.

The beginning of that song is full of soapy, washing-up liquid-y, bubble bath-y hope, (whichever your preferred method of blowing bubbles may be). I sometimes feel like I am floating around in a German bubble; I’m lucky enough that I live in a cosy, little German town that feels like home, I’ve met some people who I think are definite friends for life, and I am working in a school that I feel I completely belong in.

…They fly so high, nearly reach the sky, when just like my dreams they fade and die.

Well that’s a cheery end! That’s the tragic thing about bubbles; you know that as pretty and ethereal as they may be, sooner or later the end will be nigh, and they burst. In not quite  as such a dramatic fashion, that’s what has happened to me this week. I was merrily floating around in my German bubble, when WHAM – someone came along and burst it. 

I will warn you now, I’m about to rant. Feel free to stop reading here.

No, still with me? Well here goes…

The bursting of my bubble came about because I was trying to pay for some chocolates in a shop on my card, and the woman behind the till was trying to explain that this particular shop didn’t accept Maestros or MasterCard’s (seriously, this is 2013, what’s all that about?!). Seeing as I had no other method of payment on me at the time, I was attempting to ask how else I was expected to pay, when the man behind me let out a disgruntled sigh, followed by the words “eugh… f***ing Immigrante. Sie sollten besser deutsch können, wenn Sie in Deutschland leben wollen.” (The general gist of this is ‘eugh...immigrants. You should learn to speak better German if you’re going to live here.’) Perhaps unsurprisingly, I was really quite insulted at this. It wasn’t even that he’d pulled me up on my far-from-perfect German; I know it’s still got a long way to go. It was the term that he so harshly and unashamedly used to describe me. I was ready to round on this man, all raised-eyebrows and flabbergasted expressions. “An immigrant?! Moi?! I’ll have you know that I am British.”  But I didn’t round on him with raised-eyebrows and flabbergasted expressions, mainly because he was a lot bigger than me, I go redder than a tomato with sunburn when faced with confrontation, and I didn’t know the German for ‘pompous douchebag.’ Also, the reason that he was so rude in the first place, was because my German wasn’t good enough to effectively disguise me as a native. If I’d have started an argument with him using my stilted German, I would have epitomised exactly what he seemed to dislike about foreign people.

So instead I swallowed my words (and some tears that were threatening to escape), gave the woman behind the till an apologetic smile and trudged off. And as I walked home, trying to pick my wounded pride up off the floor, I tried to pin-point what had hurt so much about what he said. Yes, he was a grumpy old, xenophobic bugger, clearly unable to see the benefits of multiculturalism and European integration, but the reason I was so mortified was because he had called me an ‘immigrant.’ If we’re being technical, I fit the description of an immigrant. I have left my homeland, and am living and working in another country. True, I’m only here for another four and a half months, so this isn’t a permanent thing, but if I were to choose to live abroad once I graduate, then it may well be. The term ‘immigrant’ in the UK is also used by many people in a derogative sense. Though it may be unjust and unfair, the fact remains that there is a huge stigma attached to the word nowadays, and it was hurtful and humiliating to think that this man associated me with these connotations as well.

I am proud to be British. I love my country and the nation I belong to. Bensheim isn’t exactly crawling with people from all walks of life, so when people suss out that I’m not German, all of a sudden I find myself having to explain where I come from, what I’m doing in Germany, how long I’m here for etc. I must admit, it’s nice to be the interesting one with something to say and stories to tell for once. And though the Queen, the Pound and English tea will always have a special place in my heart, I have also been enjoying what it is like to embrace all things German; to 'do as ze Germans do.' 99.9% of the people I have come across so far have been helping me do this; they have been friendly, welcoming, accommodating and helpful. They are appreciative of the fact that they can learn from me, and I from them. It just goes to show, however, that all it takes is one grumpy man armed with one very powerful, three-syllabled word to come along and, quick as a flash, burst that oh-my-gosh-I-feel-so-German bubble that I’ve become so used to.

Though I may have been brought back down to earth with a bump, don’t worry, I won’t let that cast a shadow on the rest of my time here. Unfortunately, it’s one of those sad facts of life that you find people like that wherever you go. I can now fully appreciate just how much of an inferiority-complex that one word can give you. If I ever saw that man again, I would tell him: multiculturalism is definitely something to be celebrated, not down-trodden. One of the reasons I love studying languages so much is because they are a means of breaking down cultural barriers, allowing people to integrate; something that should undoubtedly be encouraged – what kind of society would we be if we couldn’t appreciate other cultures and customs? I want to be a woman of the world – someone who can build up a wealth of experience from all the different places she sees, languages she speaks and amazing people she meets on her journeys.

Just look at me, getting all liberal! I’ll be voting for Nick Clegg next.

In the spirit of embracing German culture, I should ask if there would be an obviously ‘German’ way of dealing with a situation like that. But, just today, I think I’ll opt for the coping mechanism I know best. Like a true Brit, I am going to keep calm and carry on.

Fortune's always hiding, I've looked everywhere,

I'm forever blowing bubbles, pretty bubbles in the air.

Emily