Redefining My Perspective of Germany
The ideas I had about the European country were quietly wrong, but nothing a visit couldn't fix.
My only education of Germany was from history class in high school—it was the “bad guy” in both world wars. The few German people I'd met seemed nice enough, but I also didn’t like the German food I’d eaten, the language seemed a bit harsh, and the people seemed too black-and-white in their thinking. Plus, I thought their flag was atrocious.
I didn’t hate Germany, per se, but I really didn't like anything about it.
TRYING GERMANY ON FOR SIZE
15 years later, when I landed in Stuttgart to visit some friends and travel around the country, I was confronted full-on with the culture I thought I knew. Something amazing happened. It was as if someone sunk a shovel into the ground and pried up the earth to expose a small piece of racism I'd buried long ago.
Racism? I wasn't a racist...or at least I hadn't realized it. Being there amidst the wonderful culture and people stood in contrast to a slight animosity in my heart. Upon further reflection, it came from those early days learning about Nazi Germany and not being able to separate that evil regime from the things about the German culture I didn't particularly resonate with.
Gratefully, as soon as my racism was exposed the German air, it already began to die. I immediately realized that my hatred was for the injustice done by the Nazis and really had nothing to do with the German people and their culture. All around me danced the proof that while some things I knew of Germany were true, the people and culture there are truly lovely, beyond what I could have ever understood.
Three places taught me all I needed to know about how wonderful Germany is.
- In and around Stuttgart, people enjoy a slower life. They do their duty, seemingly happy to be by themselves and with the people they know well. This is similar to how I pictured the culture in the past, but it had so much more life in it, so much more vibrancy.
- I rode the train north to Koblenz. Along the Rhein River, I marveled in the beauty of the German countryside. It was enthralling. An unnamed town in particular grabbed my attention. It sat nestled along the river, regal yet content. On the opposite bank, the steep verdant banks raised into great hills that housed vineyards and old castles on the slopes. Something about it entranced me. Forehead pressed against the window, I took in everything I could.
- I then visited Berlin, experiencing a completely different Germany. Everywhere exists art and creativity, free thought and a breath of air. This shocked me, as I thought Germany to be more dry and based in logic and tradition rather than emotion and new expressions. This resonated deeply. Strolling along the river there, chatting with two of my favorite people that I've ear met, it was solidified in my mind that this country I'd held distaste for was secretly amazing.
In my heart, I apologized to God and to the people of the country for my secret, slight past distaste. And I felt sorry for these people who may still have to deal with others’ assumptions that Germans are “bad” people.
A GERMAN SURPRISE
But that wasn't the end of my new affinity for Germany.
While I was there, my mother sent me an email with some of our European family heritage from her side of the family. Although I knew there would be French, Scottish, and Norwegian, I didn’t expect to see was that I had German relatives. A couple of them.
As I read on, I found the name of one of the towns my relatives had lived in centuries prior (and presumably still live). Bingen. There was something about the name that struck a familiar chord with me, though I wasn't sure why. I typed it into Google Maps and found that Bingen is the exact town that allured me on my train ride. This still amazes me.
I came to Germany with a little bit of death hidden in my heart, but left with life in its place—for a culture, a people, and (apparently) my own family. What gifts, that trip and those realizations.
