A week or so ago I had a conversation over the phone with a friend of mine, all in German. At first I didn't think too much about it. Heck I've been here for six months I ought to be able to hold a conversation, even if I still sound like a 3rd grader. The next day when we got together, he told me how surprised he was that I never once broke out of German. Even more surprised was his girlfriend. She had asked who was on the phone and was taken aback when she learned that I was on the other side of the call. It would have been a dead giveaway had we been speaking English, but since we were conversing in German there was no direct indication that it was me. I'll admit, both of their reactions made me feel good. It was a sign that learning to speak German, somewhat fluently, wasn't going to be impossible.
A few days later, I revisited those thoughts and it made me realize something else. Since moving to Germany I've become more independent as well as learning how to ask for help. That's not an oxymoron. I've always thrived on being independent. For as long as I can remember I've always been one to do things on my own, to do things my way and to do it without help. Yeah, I was that stubborn ass and I still am. It is that quality though that drives me. It is the fuel that gets me through grueling track workouts, the fuel that gets me up the mountain, or simply the fuel that gets me through a shitty day at work. It has been the driving force behind my determination and persistence in nearly all that I do. My tenacious character isn’t all gravy though. In fact it’s come back to bite me in the ass on a few occasions. Like when taking a gamble that I was right about something, only to get it really wrong and watch it blow up in my face. Or procrastinating something for too long because I was too stubborn to ask someone for help. But when learn from our mistakes.
Living in Germany has taught me how to better balance the two. There are times where I needed to be self sufficient while also needing to check my pride at the door. Case in point, my survival instincts kicked into high gear when I needed to get some food in the fridge. When I first got here, I had no means of transportation other than a good pair of running shoes and no means of calling anyone unless I wanted to make like Croc Dundee and wake up the whole neighborhood. So I laced up my shoes and started my hunt for town. On the border of walking home in defeat after not finding a store after an hour of searching, I made a final push and asked someone for directions (in German). I made it to the store that day and stocked up. I could tell similar stories of finding the laundry mat, or establishing a bank account, or getting a cell phone. Some things I could manage with a determined search through town while other things I needed to ask for help from my friends. I wasn’t really interested in messing up something like a bank account or getting raped by a ridiculous cell phone plan.
Being independent has taken on a new meaning since moving to Germany. It means being able to get past the fear of trying new things while knowing when to let go of your pride and ask for help. I checked both at the airport.
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