In what feels like an extended transitory period in my life I find myself happy with so much but bewildered and uncertain about so much more. The rather exceptional change in my life of my union with the man I love and moving countries for an indefinite time has somewhat upturned my life. In so many ways it has improved and I've been multiple times happier than ever before, but recently the trips back home seem to be taking their toll on me.
Naturally everyone I've known also has moved on in life and in various ways, but I seem to be far from even an observer in the matter, as distance doesn't always necessarily make the heart fonder. We're in a busy cycle of never-ending commitments and if you leave the circle, often it's hard to just pop back in intermittently. I've got to either completely let go, or just find another occupation that will aid the transition.
I know that what I have is so precious and beautiful. I know that many would be, and may well be, jealous of my life for it's current ease, but it's also extremely frightening. It's scary trying to make those big steps into a new life that's fulfilling. It's difficult because now I am no longer in a structured academic institution guiding the options available to me, it's liberating and quite nerve-wracking all at once.
Monday, 13 April 2015
Monday, 9 March 2015
Living on the continent
Recently I've been travelling around with my husband over the weekends.
The first weekend we visited Austria to try some sledging with a group of Indo-Pak colleagues from his work. Being my first time, and a road trip, I was rather fascinated at how in Europe the borders are so fluid. I wouldn't have noticed we had crossed from Germany to Austria if a girl in our group hadn't announced it. I took my passport with me, of course, but ultimately didn't require it. It was a rather strange sensation.
The following weekend we visited my in-laws in Paris and this time took the train. On the way there, again, I didn't need my passport but there was a random check on the train back to Munich, which my husband said was the first time he'd been asked for his passport in his over one and a half years of making the same trip.
With Europe having such fluid borders, it made me realise how different it is to live in Britain where travelling abroad is really quite an adventure, one that requires much more preparation, thought and a triple-check that you have your passport on you. While our continent-based counterparts usually will have a national ID card as well as their passport, we're dependent on our little red book. Our island life affects our relationship with the continent no doubt: the Euro currency, the Schengen visa system and much more but we have our own little passageways into Scotland and Wales creating a mini-continent.
But having made these trips, despite the painfully long 6-hour trip to Paris, a sense of excitement and freedom sort of awakened, making me realise how much I can explore just being in Europe alone. I don't have the restrictions of those with the limited Schengen visa, since they can't visit the Uk without applying for a separate visa, and I can just access these new places. It's liberating and fascinating, but all travelling requires a little bit of cash and I guess if I do motivate myself out of being a hermit into more of a traveller, there is quite a lot of potential out there for me.
Below are a couple of pictures of our adventures in Austria
And some pictures from Paris:
The first weekend we visited Austria to try some sledging with a group of Indo-Pak colleagues from his work. Being my first time, and a road trip, I was rather fascinated at how in Europe the borders are so fluid. I wouldn't have noticed we had crossed from Germany to Austria if a girl in our group hadn't announced it. I took my passport with me, of course, but ultimately didn't require it. It was a rather strange sensation.
The following weekend we visited my in-laws in Paris and this time took the train. On the way there, again, I didn't need my passport but there was a random check on the train back to Munich, which my husband said was the first time he'd been asked for his passport in his over one and a half years of making the same trip.
With Europe having such fluid borders, it made me realise how different it is to live in Britain where travelling abroad is really quite an adventure, one that requires much more preparation, thought and a triple-check that you have your passport on you. While our continent-based counterparts usually will have a national ID card as well as their passport, we're dependent on our little red book. Our island life affects our relationship with the continent no doubt: the Euro currency, the Schengen visa system and much more but we have our own little passageways into Scotland and Wales creating a mini-continent.
But having made these trips, despite the painfully long 6-hour trip to Paris, a sense of excitement and freedom sort of awakened, making me realise how much I can explore just being in Europe alone. I don't have the restrictions of those with the limited Schengen visa, since they can't visit the Uk without applying for a separate visa, and I can just access these new places. It's liberating and fascinating, but all travelling requires a little bit of cash and I guess if I do motivate myself out of being a hermit into more of a traveller, there is quite a lot of potential out there for me.
Below are a couple of pictures of our adventures in Austria
Our hotel
A short walk from the hotel
A mini waterfall on our walk
Walking back up to the hotel
In the town
View from a bus stop
Heading back to the car
A view of the valley from the mountains taken on our sledging route
Apple
Crumble
A Tunisian couscous
Batch one of raspberry and white chocolate muffins and a chocolate-covered crème de châtaigne cake
Second batch of muffins... after one had been stolen
Friday, 6 February 2015
Grocery Shopping
A couple of days ago I had managed to catch up with a friend from college via WhatsApp. It was nice to share a few moments together and we both discussed our life plans and options. Somehow we touched upon the topic of supermarkets and it made me realise how foreign supermarkets are genuinely quite fascinating places to be in.
Naturally I'm used to the British supermarkets because that's where I've lived for the majority of my life but visiting France gave me somewhat of an insight of how every country doesn't have what you think of as a "staple" food product readily available. I began my little analysis of my supermarket adventures here. I already have a favourite, Aldi by far. There are several reasons for this. One is that it is familiar to me because we also have one in my hometown and we go there often. The second is that the prices are not extortionate and the quality is decent. The third is that the packing area located after the tills is extremely helpful and makes my shopping experience miles better; it complements the European system of "bring your own carrier bags or pay for new ones". For some reason the other supermarkets here, namely Rewe and Tenglemann, since there are others too, don't provide you with a space to pack your bags and if you're anything like me and like to get out of the way for the next customer, you're in a bit of a panic trying to pack your bags with an even distribution of weight, not crush delicates, and not rip a bag with a sharp corner of packaging. It all becomes rather stressful. In Aldi, I can just fling all my shopping into my trolley at the till and then go to the packing area to calmly pack my bags and swap and change things around until I'm satisfied I can carry it all back home with me.
I realise that what I have started doing is looking for things that are particularly British in the supermarkets, with the hope to find some familiarity. I have been fairly successful so far, more so than I think I would have been in France and I have found baked beans, Heinz and the own brand at Rewe, and hash browns, both in Aldi and Rewe. I have recently seen a small tub, but a tub nonetheless, of double cream, and have purchased Cathedral Cheddar cheese. The Germans also have whipping cream, which I don't recall finding in France, and my husband seems to think that the aerosol stuff is the real deal. I'm trying to convince him otherwise... I am hoping to soon find clotted cream and lemon curd and other such items in a shop I have recently discovered exists, British Allsorts. I'm looking forward to going down to explore. One of my first hurdles in the supermarkets was trying to understand the flour system here and find self raising flour, which thankfully the little Chinese shop below the apartment building sells! So I don't have to venture very far to get a hold of any. Also finding a range of Indian spices and foods, like garam masala, asafoetida powder, gulab jamun and paneer has been a source of reassurance while being here.
The happiness and reassurance that familiarity brings is powerful, so much so that I know I feel more at home here than I did in Grenoble, and maybe that's largely to do with what I see in the shops and supermarkets.
Naturally I'm used to the British supermarkets because that's where I've lived for the majority of my life but visiting France gave me somewhat of an insight of how every country doesn't have what you think of as a "staple" food product readily available. I began my little analysis of my supermarket adventures here. I already have a favourite, Aldi by far. There are several reasons for this. One is that it is familiar to me because we also have one in my hometown and we go there often. The second is that the prices are not extortionate and the quality is decent. The third is that the packing area located after the tills is extremely helpful and makes my shopping experience miles better; it complements the European system of "bring your own carrier bags or pay for new ones". For some reason the other supermarkets here, namely Rewe and Tenglemann, since there are others too, don't provide you with a space to pack your bags and if you're anything like me and like to get out of the way for the next customer, you're in a bit of a panic trying to pack your bags with an even distribution of weight, not crush delicates, and not rip a bag with a sharp corner of packaging. It all becomes rather stressful. In Aldi, I can just fling all my shopping into my trolley at the till and then go to the packing area to calmly pack my bags and swap and change things around until I'm satisfied I can carry it all back home with me.
I realise that what I have started doing is looking for things that are particularly British in the supermarkets, with the hope to find some familiarity. I have been fairly successful so far, more so than I think I would have been in France and I have found baked beans, Heinz and the own brand at Rewe, and hash browns, both in Aldi and Rewe. I have recently seen a small tub, but a tub nonetheless, of double cream, and have purchased Cathedral Cheddar cheese. The Germans also have whipping cream, which I don't recall finding in France, and my husband seems to think that the aerosol stuff is the real deal. I'm trying to convince him otherwise... I am hoping to soon find clotted cream and lemon curd and other such items in a shop I have recently discovered exists, British Allsorts. I'm looking forward to going down to explore. One of my first hurdles in the supermarkets was trying to understand the flour system here and find self raising flour, which thankfully the little Chinese shop below the apartment building sells! So I don't have to venture very far to get a hold of any. Also finding a range of Indian spices and foods, like garam masala, asafoetida powder, gulab jamun and paneer has been a source of reassurance while being here.
The happiness and reassurance that familiarity brings is powerful, so much so that I know I feel more at home here than I did in Grenoble, and maybe that's largely to do with what I see in the shops and supermarkets.
Friday, 30 January 2015
Perking up
After suffering from the blues a bit, I perked up in the following few days, motivated to live life again and pressing on with whatever I could do. The sun was shining and I cleaned my flat to help clear my mind a bit before setting back to work, and tried to make the most of my final days alone. I got a lovely, and unexpected call from my mother-in-law to check how I was doing, since I'm in the city alone. It was such a lovely gesture that naturally got me in a panic initially but touched me and made my day.
Then my husband broke the news that he might be staying back another week, which I thought would be a bit difficult for us, since it's the longest we've been apart since we got married. But then I thought, at least I'm in better spirits now and maybe that extra week will just give me more time to do my own things (and create half a mess in the flat for longer). Just last night he told me that he's coming home as planned, which suddenly seems not so far away, and I have a lot to do between then and now. He arrives tomorrow evening!
I have got into crazy online Youtube habits, where I began with watching make-up tutorials just for fun (because my selection of make-up isn't vast enough to cover very many styles) and now baking and cooking clips. It's nice to see the process but sadly I'm far too lazy to be bothered to make it myself, and I really have to be in the mood to motivate myself enough to get something indulgent done in the kitchen that takes more than 15 minutes. But still, I find it quite amazing how these videos of art and skill, both make-up and cooking, are so relaxing and therapeutic. And you always seem to learn a new tip or technique along the way. :)
OK I need to stop procrastinating and actually get on with my day.
Then my husband broke the news that he might be staying back another week, which I thought would be a bit difficult for us, since it's the longest we've been apart since we got married. But then I thought, at least I'm in better spirits now and maybe that extra week will just give me more time to do my own things (and create half a mess in the flat for longer). Just last night he told me that he's coming home as planned, which suddenly seems not so far away, and I have a lot to do between then and now. He arrives tomorrow evening!
I have got into crazy online Youtube habits, where I began with watching make-up tutorials just for fun (because my selection of make-up isn't vast enough to cover very many styles) and now baking and cooking clips. It's nice to see the process but sadly I'm far too lazy to be bothered to make it myself, and I really have to be in the mood to motivate myself enough to get something indulgent done in the kitchen that takes more than 15 minutes. But still, I find it quite amazing how these videos of art and skill, both make-up and cooking, are so relaxing and therapeutic. And you always seem to learn a new tip or technique along the way. :)
OK I need to stop procrastinating and actually get on with my day.
Saturday, 24 January 2015
Being alone and being lonely
After visiting home for a couple of weeks with my hubby (though he had to come back early) I came back to Munich to spend a week with him before he flew off to America for work- for two weeks. Now, me being who I am, I generally don't mind being left alone; I often quite like it. In Grenoble I spent days in my room/ flat without leaving, once even up to 6 and a half days - mainly because I had assignments to do and there was no food shortage so I didn't have reason to go out. Of course Skype and other social media like Whatsapp can be very useful in these moments when people need to contact you and you clearly have no intention of leaving the building (or they're just too far).
However it's been a week since my other half has been gone and while I was quite happy to get on with my own plans and routine for much of the beginning, a couple of days ago I had a sort of emotional crash. I was progressing with a task I had been putting off for months and I thought I was so near completion that when I thought I had finished the majority chunk, I saw that in fact no, I had still quite a lot left. It deflated me and I felt I couldn't possibly finish. To calm down from my panic and just distract myself I went out to the shops for some grocery shopping and then came back to prepare for my English classes.
Friday came and I had my first proper bit of human contact since the last class, since I hadn't really spoken much to anyone since except a few minutes on Skype here and there with a friend or my husband. The conversations were fleeting and of not much importance. I started to re-evaluate my relationship with being alone, because usually I appreciated being alone in contexts where I would still be able to navigate and communicate relatively easily once I went back into "the real world", having had my moment of escape.
Now, while I am pretty used to my environment, the area and the tubes I realise that my outside experience is greatly altered by the simple fact that if someone were to come and speak to me, it would disorient me immensely, especially as I have to shamefacedly just reply with,"English?" A lot of people here do speak English and a German neighbour was surprised that I even considered wanting to learn German since I could function perfectly well without it. But my German learning hasn't really been coming along very well and even to be spontaneously available in any language takes a lot of learning, not just a few weeks of memorising set phrases.
I think of the irony, of seeming like the stereotypical Brit who doesn't bother to learn another language "because everyone else speaks English" or should anyway, when I spent years of my life learning French, only to accidentally land in Germany. I feel ashamed to ask people to speak in English for me but then I hardly have another choice while I'm still just learning odd nouns and phrases in German. I can't go out for a coffee without enduring that shameful scenario.
Moving to France wouldn't solve the problem because while I can speak and understand French, the culture is far less tolerant than in Germany. I feel so much more at home here than I did in France. I feel like people are more open and the supermarkets greatly reflect that, with the range of foods and especially the labelling. In France there's almost no such thing as a 'suitable for vegetarians' sign, whereas our German cousins are extremely tolerant of and accommodate different dietary requirements and choices. I guess you can't have everything...
However it's been a week since my other half has been gone and while I was quite happy to get on with my own plans and routine for much of the beginning, a couple of days ago I had a sort of emotional crash. I was progressing with a task I had been putting off for months and I thought I was so near completion that when I thought I had finished the majority chunk, I saw that in fact no, I had still quite a lot left. It deflated me and I felt I couldn't possibly finish. To calm down from my panic and just distract myself I went out to the shops for some grocery shopping and then came back to prepare for my English classes.
Friday came and I had my first proper bit of human contact since the last class, since I hadn't really spoken much to anyone since except a few minutes on Skype here and there with a friend or my husband. The conversations were fleeting and of not much importance. I started to re-evaluate my relationship with being alone, because usually I appreciated being alone in contexts where I would still be able to navigate and communicate relatively easily once I went back into "the real world", having had my moment of escape.
Now, while I am pretty used to my environment, the area and the tubes I realise that my outside experience is greatly altered by the simple fact that if someone were to come and speak to me, it would disorient me immensely, especially as I have to shamefacedly just reply with,"English?" A lot of people here do speak English and a German neighbour was surprised that I even considered wanting to learn German since I could function perfectly well without it. But my German learning hasn't really been coming along very well and even to be spontaneously available in any language takes a lot of learning, not just a few weeks of memorising set phrases.
I think of the irony, of seeming like the stereotypical Brit who doesn't bother to learn another language "because everyone else speaks English" or should anyway, when I spent years of my life learning French, only to accidentally land in Germany. I feel ashamed to ask people to speak in English for me but then I hardly have another choice while I'm still just learning odd nouns and phrases in German. I can't go out for a coffee without enduring that shameful scenario.
Moving to France wouldn't solve the problem because while I can speak and understand French, the culture is far less tolerant than in Germany. I feel so much more at home here than I did in France. I feel like people are more open and the supermarkets greatly reflect that, with the range of foods and especially the labelling. In France there's almost no such thing as a 'suitable for vegetarians' sign, whereas our German cousins are extremely tolerant of and accommodate different dietary requirements and choices. I guess you can't have everything...
Tuesday, 13 January 2015
The wedding
The winter may not have officially begun but the temperatures are starting to take a toll on me here in Munich. I'm rather startled by my discomfort in the cold considering I'm quite used to the cooler seasons from where I come from (the North of England) but apparently it's a matter of the "continental climate", something I have only recently been told about. Basically the cold is different here, and harsher, just like the sun in Britain's summers isn't quite the same as that in the Middle East I guess. A painful but necessary discovery.
Well it has been on my mind recently that I haven't quite completed the chronology of my life's events (basically the wedding) and so I thought I'd fulfil that obligation before I actually get back into blogging as I would like to.
The official wedding preparations began as soon as I graduated (or rather as soon as I'd had taken my last exam) and the journey was intense. Organising a wedding has no doubt many ups and downs and when you're trying to please both families, compromises need to be made. My Mum wanted a typically big wedding with perhaps 500+ people whereas my future in-laws were used to much smaller weddings, the type that take place in a living room with about 15 people or less. The compromise was at 200 and the arguments didn't end there. I'm sure everyone who has had a wedding in the house knows it's a shocking ordeal in the name of festivities, happiness and tradition but often when my brother said "this is what it's like for everyone; every house has these problems during a wedding" I responded that "I don't care if it happens to everyone. It doesn't make it acceptable or good practice. It should still be avoided!!"
The big day soon arrived and my (our) wedding was alhamdulillah one that was executed with lots of care and effort from my siblings and cousins. I slept about 3 hours because I had a bit of a tummy upset the night before, which kept me awake most of the night, and of course a million thoughts just running through my mind. Make-up started at about 6.30am and I was at the hall for about midday (an hour later than I had hoped but the ceremony was a few hours away.
Because of the nature of a South Asian nikkah, I was sat in a separate room, in which I would wait until the imam, my family and the witnesses came to conduct my part of the ceremony. Everyone, except two, left to partake in the groom's part of the ceremony in the main hall with all of the guests. It took a lot of waiting and I was eager for the ceremony to be conducted just so that I could get out into the hall and participate in the rest of the day and the events to come. Typically (and we had foreseen this so my temper was somewhat under control) we were running about an hour late because the groom's side arrived late- there was an emergency stop to a supermarket for nappies. This added to my anticipation in the room I was in but before I knew it, I was married and I had to walk in with my family to join my husband on stage.
As soon as we had taken our seats on stage, the imam kindly introduced my sister, and then my sister-in-law and then my brother to present their short speeches, which brought tears to my eyes and most heartwarming. I remember thinking "oh no! I've only just come out on stage, I can't have my make-up ruined straight away". Thankfully my cousin brought me a tissue and the damage was kept to a minimum. After the closing prayer we descended to cut the cake before the wedding breakfast. Just before dessert (though my husband ate some ice cream while standing before moving anywhere) we were whisked away by the photographer for some (rather embarrassing) photos.
After several different picture settings my dad came to tell me that we were running even later than before
(as if I was wearing a watch) and we had to head in inside for some final pictures and I found that quite a lot of the guests were beginning to leave. I was rather upset about this because I really did want to walk amongst the guests to speak to my friends and family but unfortunately the timing didn't allow it! :((
The rukhsati was upon us before I knew it and after several hugs and sobs, we got into the black cab to take us to our hotel. My brother accompanied us, as it's the tradition for the brother to escort his sister to the in-law's house, and so we were on our way when the cab stopped and my brother came from the front of the car to sit before us in the back. He broke the news that my overnight bag, which was in the cab, had been stolen just minutes before the rukhsati and since my purse was in my bag, I had to call the bank to cancel my cards.
Thanks to my family, the rest of the evening ran smoothly, even though it must have been chaotic for them to have had to rearrange another overnight bag for me and hosting the many guests at home at the "after party".
Well it has been on my mind recently that I haven't quite completed the chronology of my life's events (basically the wedding) and so I thought I'd fulfil that obligation before I actually get back into blogging as I would like to.
The official wedding preparations began as soon as I graduated (or rather as soon as I'd had taken my last exam) and the journey was intense. Organising a wedding has no doubt many ups and downs and when you're trying to please both families, compromises need to be made. My Mum wanted a typically big wedding with perhaps 500+ people whereas my future in-laws were used to much smaller weddings, the type that take place in a living room with about 15 people or less. The compromise was at 200 and the arguments didn't end there. I'm sure everyone who has had a wedding in the house knows it's a shocking ordeal in the name of festivities, happiness and tradition but often when my brother said "this is what it's like for everyone; every house has these problems during a wedding" I responded that "I don't care if it happens to everyone. It doesn't make it acceptable or good practice. It should still be avoided!!"
 |
| I did my own henna on my left hand (the right hand in the pic) |
 |
| The henna on the top of my hands, the one on the right done by me |
Because of the nature of a South Asian nikkah, I was sat in a separate room, in which I would wait until the imam, my family and the witnesses came to conduct my part of the ceremony. Everyone, except two, left to partake in the groom's part of the ceremony in the main hall with all of the guests. It took a lot of waiting and I was eager for the ceremony to be conducted just so that I could get out into the hall and participate in the rest of the day and the events to come. Typically (and we had foreseen this so my temper was somewhat under control) we were running about an hour late because the groom's side arrived late- there was an emergency stop to a supermarket for nappies. This added to my anticipation in the room I was in but before I knew it, I was married and I had to walk in with my family to join my husband on stage.
The wedding cake was handmade by my dad's sister
 |
| My Mum and her twin sister crocheted the turquoise (and blue) table centres |
(as if I was wearing a watch) and we had to head in inside for some final pictures and I found that quite a lot of the guests were beginning to leave. I was rather upset about this because I really did want to walk amongst the guests to speak to my friends and family but unfortunately the timing didn't allow it! :((
The rukhsati was upon us before I knew it and after several hugs and sobs, we got into the black cab to take us to our hotel. My brother accompanied us, as it's the tradition for the brother to escort his sister to the in-law's house, and so we were on our way when the cab stopped and my brother came from the front of the car to sit before us in the back. He broke the news that my overnight bag, which was in the cab, had been stolen just minutes before the rukhsati and since my purse was in my bag, I had to call the bank to cancel my cards. |
| The famous British black cab |
Tuesday, 28 October 2014
Starting in Munich
Although this post doesn't fit in the chronology of the wedding and arriving in Munich, I felt that I'd write it up anyway.
I've been in Munich for quite some weeks now. I'm sort of getting into a routine but not quite started my work that I had planned- sorting out my laptop seems to be a more demanding task than I thought. But I'll get there eventually...
My German is improving- meaning that I'm learning to recognise some written words- despite me not properly starting my German course. Yesterday my husband and I went to the laundrette to do the laundry and a (rather tall) man tried to help me with the dryer, in German of course, and I couldn't really grasp what he was trying to say but he eventually just smiled and let me carry on guessing which buttons to press until my husband came and confirmed I was on the right track.
I've also been exploring so many different supermarkets, finding the cheapest offers on this, looking for the best quality of that and so on and so forth. Consequently, I popped into our local Aldi, one because I know the prices there are reasonable for everyday things and two, because it's familiar to home. Of course Aldi is German but they've branched out across Europe and the UK is a happy host to the family supermarket. Familiarity often just feels better sometimes and while I was on my solo adventure, I got caught up in a small but typical conflict of trolly politesse. I was in a corner of the shop and as I was going to advance forward, I saw a man approaching on my left who would turn into the aisle I was in. I decided to let the man pass ahead of me just so that I didn't feel like I had someone waiting behind me as I was wandering through slowly. He kindly smiled and (I presume) told me to go ahead because he was going to stop on that corner to look at something. He then continued speaking to me jokingly and all I could do was smile and nod while slowly walking away a little sad that I couldn't really understand his banter and any casual conversation for that matter.
It took me back to when I was a young adolescent. I loved reading novels that had an ethnic flavour: books about immigration and being displaced, taken from your home and other novels about struggles in new environments. Sometimes they were about war and just moving towns, cities and villages like A Thousand Splendid Suns and A Long Way Gone, and at other times they were about international migration. Being in Germany sort of reminds me of the novel Brick Lane, despite me not living in an area populated with lots of immigrants, I feel slightly confined to these walls (by nature) and my going out doesn't "contribute" because I'm oblivious to much of the language and so I leave the flat in a bubble and I have limited access to information. Thankfully I'm literate in English and French and so I can recognise the numbers, the letters and my "European-ness" clearly makes the products familiar, but nonetheless this immigration still requires that adjustment, learning and experience of challenges like any other. Fortunately I have God and my husband here to support me through it and the internet...
I've been in Munich for quite some weeks now. I'm sort of getting into a routine but not quite started my work that I had planned- sorting out my laptop seems to be a more demanding task than I thought. But I'll get there eventually...
My German is improving- meaning that I'm learning to recognise some written words- despite me not properly starting my German course. Yesterday my husband and I went to the laundrette to do the laundry and a (rather tall) man tried to help me with the dryer, in German of course, and I couldn't really grasp what he was trying to say but he eventually just smiled and let me carry on guessing which buttons to press until my husband came and confirmed I was on the right track.
I've also been exploring so many different supermarkets, finding the cheapest offers on this, looking for the best quality of that and so on and so forth. Consequently, I popped into our local Aldi, one because I know the prices there are reasonable for everyday things and two, because it's familiar to home. Of course Aldi is German but they've branched out across Europe and the UK is a happy host to the family supermarket. Familiarity often just feels better sometimes and while I was on my solo adventure, I got caught up in a small but typical conflict of trolly politesse. I was in a corner of the shop and as I was going to advance forward, I saw a man approaching on my left who would turn into the aisle I was in. I decided to let the man pass ahead of me just so that I didn't feel like I had someone waiting behind me as I was wandering through slowly. He kindly smiled and (I presume) told me to go ahead because he was going to stop on that corner to look at something. He then continued speaking to me jokingly and all I could do was smile and nod while slowly walking away a little sad that I couldn't really understand his banter and any casual conversation for that matter.
It took me back to when I was a young adolescent. I loved reading novels that had an ethnic flavour: books about immigration and being displaced, taken from your home and other novels about struggles in new environments. Sometimes they were about war and just moving towns, cities and villages like A Thousand Splendid Suns and A Long Way Gone, and at other times they were about international migration. Being in Germany sort of reminds me of the novel Brick Lane, despite me not living in an area populated with lots of immigrants, I feel slightly confined to these walls (by nature) and my going out doesn't "contribute" because I'm oblivious to much of the language and so I leave the flat in a bubble and I have limited access to information. Thankfully I'm literate in English and French and so I can recognise the numbers, the letters and my "European-ness" clearly makes the products familiar, but nonetheless this immigration still requires that adjustment, learning and experience of challenges like any other. Fortunately I have God and my husband here to support me through it and the internet...
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