When we moved
to Berlin from Italy in July, 2009, we learned that, if we wanted to remain in
Germany permanently, we would need something called a Daueraufenthaltstitel, a permanent residency permit. One of the prerequisites to reaching the
summit of that magic mountain was an official certificate stating that we had arrived
at a B-1 level of proficiency in the German language. We heard that such a certificate could be had
by successfully completing a series of German classes offered by our local Volkshochschule Bezirksamt Charlottenburg-Wilmersdorf Abteilung Wirtschaft,
Ordnungsangelegenheiten und Weiterbildung.
Or, as we say in English, the adult continuing education school,
sponsored by the District Office
Charlottenburg-Wilmersdorf Department of Economics, Regulatory Affairs and
Continuing Education. Known as the VHS for
short.
On a walk
through our leafy neighborhood one day, I came upon a pre-war red brick courtyard
building set way back from the street.
On the vaulted entrance to the courtyard was a bronze plaque that read VHS City West Charlottenburg-Wilmersdorf. Eureka!
Or, if I had already reached a B-1 level in German, I would have said, “Eureka!”
The VHS was less than a ten minute walk from our apartment and it was
offering the beginners’ class, Deutsch
A 1.1, in September. I immediately
registered us and so began our arduous climb up the mountain to the elusive B-1
summit.
Words
matter, especially in Germany, a country whose borders and culture are based on
its language. Deutschland means the land where Deutsch is spoken. So it
wasn’t at all surprising that Germany would require anyone seeking to make a
home here to be able to at least muddle through in the native tongue. To that end, and to reduce financial barriers
to residency, Germany offers immigrants German language courses at
extremely low cost. How low? Ridiculously low. I don’t know what a VHS language class costs
today, given the passage of ten years and the increase in demand--the influx of
young EU citizens who flocked here in droves looking for work after the 2008
financial crisis, not to mention the 2015 wave of refugees and asylum seekers from
Syria, Afghanistan, and other conflict countries--but when we attended, a course
cost €110. That’s right. The cost of a nice dinner out for two. And we’re talking intensive language courses—three
hours a day, four days a week, plus a couple of hours of homework each day, in classes
taught by native speakers who were dedicated, professional teachers.
In all, I
took German lessons for two years at various neighborhood VHS facilities around
Berlin. In Year 1 I took the four A
level courses (A 1.1, A 1.2, A 2.1, and A 2.2).
In in Year 2 I took the four B level courses (B 1.1, B 1.2, B 2.1 and
B.2.2), plus a review course, B 1-2. The
B 2’s and the B 1-2 weren’t necessary for the residency permit, but I enjoyed learning
the language, and I was meeting people, making friends, so I continued. I took and passed the B 1 test in July of
2011. My Zertifikat is below. (My husband has one, too.) With
all those courses, plus the Zertifikat,
you’d think I speak German reasonably well.
Sadly, my facility is embarrassingly rudimentary. Don’t believe people when they tell you you’re
never too old to learn a new language, unless perhaps they’re talking about a language
other than German.
How much
did I spend over those two years to learn enough German to sit for the B 1 exam? A measly €660, which was far, far less than
what it actually cost the government to provide those lessons. From the German perspective, the subsidy is
well spent. The people coming to live in
Germany make an Eintopf (stew) of different languages,
cultures, and traditions. To introduce
foreigners to what it means to live here, the A 1 to B 1 course cycle doesn’t only
teach how to decline a noun and conjugate a verb or make a polite request at
the bakery. It also introduces the German
social, economic, and political culture, which is why it’s called an Integrationskurs, an integration course. As a result, along with, “Ich heiße Marilyn und komme aus den USA,“ I also learned there is a fundamental
difference between Americans and Germans and between Americans and Europeans in
general.
The
difference lies in the cultural value of Solidarität
(solidarity), which in Europe takes the political form of social democracy, a
tradition foreign to the US. (Just ask Bernie Sanders.) According
to Wiki:
Social
democracy is a political, social and economic philosophy that supports economic
and social interventions to promote social justice within the framework of a
liberal democratic polity and a capitalist-oriented economy.
Liberally democratic. Capitalist-oriented. Socially-minded. Scary!!
I learned about
this fundamental difference between Americans and Europeans in one of the B series classes. After an afternoon of drilling vocabulary and
attempting to converse in this difficult, unforgiving,
grammatically-inverted, case-driven, hard-to-pronounce language, our teacher said
she wanted to take a survey, and she asked our class what I thought at the time
was a silly question with an obvious answer.
That should have been my first clue:
There are no silly questions.
She asked, “If
you were taking an exam and your classmate, who was struggling with a question,
asked you for the answer, would you help?”
I immediately thought, “Are you kidding?
Of course not!” The teacher went
around the room, asking each student for a response and to identify his or her
nationality. The other Americans answered
as I had. The Europeans answered, “Of
course! Why wouldn’t I?” I was blown away.
The teacher
told us that she asks this question in every course and the results are always
the same. The students from countries
with a tradition of social democratic governments almost instinctively want
to help. For them, community is basic to
their decision making. They come from
cultures that emphasize solidarity over individualism when there is a conflict
between the two values. They encourage cooperation
and team work over competition and individual effort. People from these countries are socialized to
behave in a way consistent with the principle that society advances further faster
when people act together to achieve a common goal: What's good for society is good for me. It’s part of the European cultural DNA.
She said American
students, on the other hand, almost always decline to help. For us, the individual is at the center of our
decision-making. We come from a culture
that emphasizes individualism and encourages competition, where the group plays second fiddle to the soloist. We are socialized to behave in a way
consistent with the principle that society advances on the backs of hard-working,
creative individuals. The individual
goal takes precedence: What’s good for me
is good for society. That’s part of our American cultural
DNA.
We're different, and it's exciting and liberating to realize that. One of the most exhilarating, mind-expanding things about being an ex-pat is that you find out there is more than one way to do almost everything. No matter how banal or critical the decision, there is more than one choice, more than one way to live your life. Coming from outside the local culture gives you a unique perspective from which to evaluate it and at the same time, your own. You get the chance to rethink things you took for granted and decide how you really feel about them. It’s like learning a new language, the language of you.
Keep it
real!
Marilyn






Yikes, I would be utterly and completely buggered by this requirement....
ReplyDeleteIt’s actually a fairly low bar. The pity is, I passed but I don’t really speak German!
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