When Home Becomes Foreign – by Charlotte Richter

Arrival in Germany
It is 11:20, the people around me clap their hands and the airplane hits the ground – German ground. Yet my environment is still Lebanese: In a row of Lebanese passengers I walk towards the entrance of the Lebanese plain, pass by the Lebanese stewardesses and say a Lebanese goodbye to them, then I notice a bucket in the corner. The unusual thing is that the word on it is written in my mother tongue: “Streusalz”.

Suddenly I hear German language everywhere. People talk as if this was normal, as if they were not a minority. On the way to the baggage claim I see a big (big in all directions) worker in a “Blaumann” with a blonde mustache. I pass by several bakeries and smell the delicious, seductive scent of fresh bread, buns and cake. (But I resist for I know my mother is cooking spaghetti for me – “al dente” – and I missed that SO much!) I am looking for a rubbish bin and as I find one I am confused which of the three possibilities I should choose. Waste separation, of course, I remember: The yellow one is correct. A propos rubbish. I should also get used again not to throw toilet paper into the bin… Bit by bit I realize that I’m in Germany again.

I walk to the rail station. It is cold, very cold, but the air is fresh, I like that. I look at the advertising posters in front of me. On the first one are girls, laughing and blowing gum. To spit gum on the ground will be punished with 20 €, the poster says. The other one explains in a similar way that throwing fags costs 15 €. Ridiculous or reasonable? For now I’m not quite sure.

The train arrives, with half an hour delay. I find a seat near the window. With 300 km/h we breeze along a winter landscape. No olive trees, no Mediterranean Sea. Through the loudspeaker we hear the conductor’s voice which is greeting the new passengers, excuses for the delay and announces two non-scheduled stops. The woman besides me makes a face and turns her head against me: “Ts, ts, it’s always the same!” Nodding my head, I confirm her opinion. But actually I don’t now anymore what ‘always the same’ means…