Oh that pesky diphthong...

Diphthong definitely belongs to the category of words which sound like they should be nasty, but aren't (like 'Thespian).

More on Germans and the pesky diphthong 'TH'... let me introduce you to Loriot. He is the funniest comedian I've encountered thus far in Germany - his humor, unlike the regular slapstick I've found here, is Monty Python dry. (not that I'm panning the slapstick; when you can't get the verbal jokes, the slapstick always pays off).

In this sketch, a regular partner of his, the late, great Evelyn Hamman, is trying to bring the viewers up to speed on what has happened in a miniseries her program has been showing. Watch as she gives the aristocratic British names her best try - with increasing difficulty as she starts tripping over the pronounciation. Don't sweat not understanding the German - just listen for the names.

Brand New

One thing I didn't expect moving over here was to have my entire working knowledge of how to shop, wiped out. Imagine going into a grocery store to buy, well, anything. Let's agree for the sake of argument that you actually are able to read the labels and talk to the sales staff sufficiently. (If you can't, you will be buying items based on the pictures on the packages, and are libel to find yourself with many interesting and unexpected foodstuffs when you get home).

Now, you enter the grocery store looking for, say, cake mix. Greeting you are an array of brands with deceptively attractive-looking cakes. Prices vary widely between brands. Which one to take? Do I really want to put the effort into making a substandard cake if I purchase the wrong one? Will have have enough eggs to make a backup? Who is this Dr. Oetker, anyway? I'll disappoint my guests! My mother-in-law will think I'm a bad caretaker for my family! My neighbor will purse her lips disapprovingly at the crazy American! My children will eat it anyway because 1) it's sweet and 2) it's sweet! After dithering for an embarrassing amount of time, I think, I'll take the virtuous route and make something from scratch.

Turning around to the 'from scratch' part of the baking aisle and - you guessed it - back to the start. Trial and error has shown me that even familar brands like Heinz or Colgate are just a bit different than their domestic versions.

Buying meat is also something of challenge as well, but with those I'm pretty safe with these fine (and legitimate) German words: der Steak, der Hamburger and die Ribs. Cheese is hit or miss - sure, there's lots of Emmentaler, Limburger, Edammer - but when you really want a nice bit of Cheddar... *sigh*. Tacos with an aged Gouda aren't that bad though!

True agonizing comes with items that require committment - a tube of toothpaste, for example, a bad choice of which will condemn me to weeks of dreading the toothbrushing ritual. Why, you might ask, don't I through the things away, if I don't like them? Then I answer - didn't you see my post where I mentioned how miserly I am? I can't just waste good toothpaste!

p.s. turns out that good old Dr. Oetker is the German 'Betty Crocker', and has saved my hide a few times. Thanks, Doc!

But of course...

I have officially forbidden the term 'of course' from the house. The follow-up comment 'What did you expect' is also verboten. I have come to realize there is no 'of course' in a new culture.

The answer to 'What did you expect' is, naturally, whatever one would expect in the home country. What you get is something else!

Language Tests

What do you do when you live in a foreign country and your child develops a lisp in her mother tongue?

Now, in German, they don't have the 'th' sound. There have been plenty of jokes about this; the best is probably this Berlitz ad:

So the fact that Anke's a bit soft on her TH's doesn't really show up on the radar of her kindergarten teachers, or get picked up during the preschool language screening done here. It does mean, though, that conversations with her usually involve us kneeling down to show her how to say 'TH'. This involves exaggeratedly sticking our tongues out through our teeth while almost clamping down with the teeth. How Anke has not lost the tip of her tongue during these exercises yet is beyond me.

To illustrate the difficulty, here is a transcript from a conversation a few months ago:
Anke: One, Two, Free, Four, Five...
the Mother: No, Anke, Look, it's THree...
Anke: Ok. One, Two, Three, Thour, Thive....

I can report that she has the 'Three' down pat now. This success hasn't translated into other uses, though.