Peeling tile, broken dishwasher, moldy countertops... 

how'd we put up with this for so long?!

fter the whirlwind renovations our first year here - painting every room, adding window coverings and wardrobes, investing in our first major appliances - apartment projects have settled down. One thing that has since stayed on my mind is the shoddy kitchen (ok, ok, also the avocado green toilet, but we'll get there), which funnily enough, was described as 'installed' in the rental ad, required payment to the previous tenant for the ancient (and as we now know, not entirely functioning) appliances and ended up listed as 'tenant owned' on our paperwork. With no other apartment projects on our list - and holidays temporarily taking a back seat - we were ready to dive in.

Being the overly-ambitious renovator that I am, I of course wanted to gut it down to the circa 1992 cabinets, tile walls and floors included. Naturally, I had to concede that our visas being only a few years at a time and the element of never knowing what will happen, it was too much of an investment. Not to mention the fact that if we did ever move, it would likely be out of Germany, so there would be no way we would take our kitchen with us. For readers new to this German concept of paying for and toting around your own kitchen - from cabinets to sinks to appliances - from apartment to apartment, with the small likelihood that your last kitchen will even fit into the space of your new kitchen, its ridiculousness is unmatched. It is the most wasteful, expensive and just plain makes-no-sense thing the Germans indulge in. They might as well say to renters "here's the bathroom, but by the way, you have to supply your own tub and toilet." In the land known for streamlining and efficiency, this is one area in which the Germans are sorely lacking. 

What I hope our kitchen will look like, given time

Having accepted our limitations, I started planning. If we couldn't gut the whole thing, perhaps we could just get new cabinet doors to freshen it up. What bothers me most about the cabinets (besides the chipped finish, the horribly dated handles, and the '90s-inspired grid glass) was awkward upper middle cabinet. With it's smaller size, rotted-out corners and animal-shaped knobs, it brought out deep frustration every time I looked at it.

I don't know why it took me so long to come to the conclusion, but taking it out altogether was really the best thing from both an aesthetic and functional point of view. Not only did it really open up the space, but it let me get at the 20+ years of grime behind it and include it in the tile repainting portion of the project.

Uh, yuck!

I was apprehensive about just painting over the tiles because some preliminary research told me it won't adhere well and will likely chip and scratch easily. Since tearing the tiles out of the 100-year-old wall beneath wasn't really an option, we forged ahead with the only option we found at OBI (the German Home Depot, right down to the warehouse interior and same shade of orange in the logo). I did a few extra rounds of sanding and scrubbing with the special cleaner to ensure the best possible surface for the paint to adhere to, and all in all, I'm pretty happy with the result. The surface is not entirely immune to indentations and paint scratching off, but it's more durable than I would have expected and the shiny, clean surface makes the tile look almost new again.   

Before

After

The next big thing was the appliances (the reason this whole project got underway, really). As with everything else, budget was a factor. While we thought Ikea would be the place to go for cheap appliances, they were actually more expensive and much more limiting than options at the big electronics stores. We were lucky enough to score to pieces that were the last ones left and/or floor models, so we were able to spring for a more efficient dishwasher, a name-brand stove and an induction cooktop (which came very highly recommended from the lovely Frau Dietz and her husband) for not too much from Media Markt. Less than a week later, they were delivered.

And so, out with the old (although I do regret not hanging onto Tweety as a memento)... 

... and in with the new!

I wish I could say that just having better-looking appliances from this decade makes everything better, but some basic functionality is also key. Our installation was yet another test in putting up with the complete lack of customer service in Germany. Between the deals we got on the appliances, the comparably-small delivery window (which they showed up exactly in the middle of) and how quickly they got the old appliances out and the new ones in, I should have known there would be a catch. And the catch was - the cooktop doesn't work.

Basically the workers threw up their hands and left our oven/stovetop half installed, taking our old (but working!) oven and stovetop with them. A prompt call from the manufacturer told us they could send a technician out to fix the problem - in a week. So I went ahead and scheduled that appointment (for my birthday, no less) and my husband called Media Markt to raise some hell about the lack of concern with leaving us unable to cook for eight whole days. Not surprisingly, they didn't really care. Were they willing to scramble to get us another cooktop from another store? No. Were they willing to cover the expense of us having to eat out for a week? At this, they scoffed. What they would do is try to talk to the manufacturer about speeding up the shipment of the part they miraculously knew we needed. Nice. Thanks for nothing.

I had a brief conversation with Frau Dietz about this on the train the other day, during which she shared an interesting theory behind this lack of 'customer service' that exists (and since her husband is German, I pretty much trust her insights into the German people more than my own). Quite simply, Germans are box-checkers. Did we show up on time? Check. Did we take away their old appliances? Check. Did we install the new appliances? Check (well, sort of). Anything other than checking these boxes is perhaps considered extraneous and only takes away from the task at hand - checking the next boxes on the list. This practicality and efficiency is one of the things I love about Germany, but as a people, it often makes them seem cold and unfeeling. As a customer who just dropped a bunch of money in their store, it makes for an incredibly frustrating experience. 

On the flip side, Frau Dietz brought up a good point that if this were the UK (or in the US, as you Americans know), they would've provided a customer service number that, once you finally made it through maze of numerical choices and endless renditions of easy-listening covers, connected you to someone in India who would ultimately be not in the department you needed, only to be transferred multiple times before the line finally disconnects you and you have to start all over again. I suppose there's no easy solution to this one, no matter where you are.    

On a positive note, other small fixes in the kitchen have proved invaluable in terms of making the most of the usability of our space. For example, other than two little racks that held barely as much as we drank in a week, we finally invested in a proper wine rack so we can keep all our treasured bottles from local wineries close at hand. A simple hanging rack meant getting rid of the counter fruit bowl and clearing up even more work space. Spices were also buried in our pantry on a tiny shelf that required ducking in and twisting around in a near contortionist position. Now, all my most-used spices are within reach of the stove (that albeit, doesn't work yet). I've also spent the last year and a half cursing every time I reached for a paper towel - the roll free-standing on the shelf - and dropped the entire thing into a sink full of soapy dishes. Why I didn't prioritize a paper towel holder until now, I'll never know.  It's all about the little things. Well, and the big things - like a working cooktop.

Aside from getting our cooktop sorted out and two shelves installed where the old cabinet used to be, the next big step will be deciding on which cheap countertop we will put in (since the ubiquitous butcher block tops are five times the price of laminate, the landlord basically said it's our problem - regardless that we rented an apartment with an 'installed kitchen' - and WE don't own the place) to replace the moldy, uneven, poorly cut wood top that exists now. A new sink that doesn't eat into my countertop work space will also be key, and I'm hoping I can squeeze a new faucet out of that budget as well. So our biggest decision for the month of October will likely be... faux wood or faux granite?

Even with everything still left unfinished, the kitchen is leaps and bounds ahead of where we started. So all in all, I'm pleased. I'm envisioning a few months down the line a beautiful, finished kitchen... (and it can't come soon enough!)

*Luke Lucas for Daily Drop Cap via Jessica Hische

ven though our weather has finally given us a feeling of summer, it's clear that fall is on its way. The calendar has turned to September and now our nights are getting colder, trees are starting to lose their leaves and the colors of autumn are starting to show up everywhere. My favorite season is just getting underway and I'm getting antsy for it to arrive in full force! 

Oh yeah, and my favorite part of autumn of all:

(more on that here) ;)

*Daily Drop Cap by Alison Carmichael via Jessica Hische

Ahh... CA

 am conflicted about what to say - and even how to feel - about our trip back to California. Was it great to see our family, friends and be there for someone's wedding day? Of course. Did we enjoy eating all our favorite American foods? Our waistlines are giving a big thumbs up. Does visiting make us 'homesick' to be back there? Um, not so much.

The time we spent in traffic - on a daily basis - 

meant we could be in another country if we were at home :(

Our first trip back to the states was a mere six months after we'd moved, so things were still so new - our excitement about Germany being the place we were living was still so fresh in our minds. Missing people - and the food - was still a new concept. I have to say that more than a year later, I sometimes miss the food even more (German options are comparatively minimal) and get cravings like a pregnant lady for pickles and ice cream. Admittedly though, I felt awful 90% of the time after indulging in whatever it was I felt I couldn't leave California without eating. Either we've gotten too used to Germany's food or US food quality has taken a serious dive.

In the months leading up to our trip, I became almost voracious for all the choices we had in America - places to eat, places to shop (in reality, just more things to buy). Sure, it gets boring sometimes going to the same two or three places when we go out to dinner here, but I found myself actually getting overwhelmed at the amount of choices everywhere we went in America - the menu at a restaurant, the size of shops, the amount of processed crap available in the grocery store. Even the elaborately-designed storefronts I missed so much started to feel forced. The effort that goes into getting people to buy things in America was exhausting, and it was exhausting to be around. 

The clothes, the displays - everything is beautiful 

and so well-designed

Not that the polar-opposite in Germany is that much better: most of the time you're made to feel as if you're doing them a favor by purchasing something in their shop. Those overly-friendly salespeople in America (Germans consider such conversation 'fake') are people here you have to practically beg to help you and those abundant choices (especially in my area of weakness - fashion) might be there, but aren't worth what you have to pay for them. Clothes are mostly polyester, shoes are overpriced and horribly uncomfortable (not to mention don't come in my size), but because that's the way it is, Germans don't question it. Germans seem to be creatures of habit; they stick with what's worked just fine for them (and their parents, and their grandparents..). I couldn't imagine an American sitting back and just 'dealing' with only the choices in front of him - it's all about pushing for something more, something different, something better (Which is really just: More! More!)! I suppose this is how supermarkets got filled with entire aisles of different kinds of tortilla chips and breakfast cereals. 

Choices abound in America - but who really needs this many varieties of mac-n-cheese?!

In addition to some of our perceptions about America that were further cemented this trip, our feelings about where we felt most at home also came more into focus. This trip resulted in lots of questions about when we were coming 'home' - aka, California. Perhaps after nearly two years, friends and family thought our little adventure must be coming to a close and we'd head back to the familiar. It's funny to me because I finally feel like the more we're settling into our lives here in Germany, the more culture, language and politics we understand, the less desire we have to go back. Even though we've got a long way to get to what I'd consider 'integrated,' there's something so much more appealing to us about the lifestyle over here - less stress, more vacation, the ease of travel... Though, I do miss the ease of communicating - with anyone and everyone - that we enjoyed while we were back. But that too, I suppose, will come in time.

The most 'vacation' we got - 

a little coffee and breakfast at the beach one morning

Perhaps the oddest part about going back is how conflicted I felt - about how to feel. While getting all the way back to California eats up gobs of holiday time and money, it doesn't quite feel like a vacation. There's too much on the 'to-do list' for it to be a real holiday. And although we stay with my parents and spend so much time with the people and places we used to be with on a daily basis, it feels almost nothing like home. 

As a perfectionist who must unpack and hang up all my things upon arrival on any holiday (including just a weekend), I have a deep-seated need to feel settled. So this idea of feeling out of place in both California and Germany has been a tough pill to swallow (friend and fellow expat blogger Jen over at Resident on Earth has written two lovely posts on this - here and here - that articulate the feelings around this more eloquently than I can). So my love for our new home drives me forward, into an uncertain place where my Type-A-ness is often pushed to it's limits and I can't appease my sometimes frantic bouts of worry about where we'll be in five years and if, my god, will we ever become fluent in German? The in-between is trying and sometimes scary, but I know that the challenge is good for me. 

Home again, home again...

Back home, there are still projects to be done, not the least of which is the re-doing of much of our kitchen (new appliances, new, unmold-y countertops, minor face-lift updates). I foresee the months following the update to our kitchen - most notably the working appliances - to be filled with even more baking and general cookery than usual for this Hausfrau. Stay tuned for new kitchen excitement and the inevitably resulting frenzy of baking!   

*Drop cap by Linzie Hunter for Daily Drop Cap

The favor from the wedding we attended - 

a gnome to share our travels with, here at Capitola Beach

till deep in recovery from our trip to the states (not to mention trying to sort out my failing iPhone), I have yet to get into the proper state of mind, or sort through all my trip photos, to put together a decent post about our second trip back since moving to Germany. Needless to say, our perceptions keep changing the longer we're here - some which make us miss it there even more and some that make us embarrassed to be identified as Americans (this comes to mind). 

We headed to California specifically for a dear friend's wedding, but the rest of our time there was jam-packed with seeing family and friends, gathering all the things we can only get in the states, and generally spending hours on frustrating freeways jam-packed with people who don't deserve the privilege of a driver's license (let's just say that if I had a dollar for every time someone almost ran into us, it would nearly have financed our trip). So long story short, we could really use a vacation after our vacation. 

More to come on our adventures in California...

*Daily Drop Cap by Jessica Hische

Kicking off the Mainzer Bierbörse with a Kölsch

ith all the internal struggling I've been having over our German assimilation - or lack thereof - I have to admit that I'm going to miss home (aka, Germany) while we're visiting California (no longer home) in the next few weeks. There's so much I'm looking forward to that we don't have here - friends and family, wonderful gourmet food, great shopping - but there's plenty I'm not looking forward to as well - the horrible drivers, the endless traffic, being repeatedly 'sized up' by other women, that windy, wet coastal air that makes my hair look as if I've stuck my finger in an electric socket. I'm heading over with almost equal anticipation and apprehension.

All the love-hate feelings I've been struggling with reminds me a little of an experience from my childhood. One year, my parents moved us across town and I landed at a new school. I quickly became close with a girl in my class there, but when she presented me with one half of those ubiquitous 'best friends' necklaces, my naive nine-year-old mind thought: "But I already have a best friend (with whom I shared a similar necklace) from my old school!"  Somehow, I thought that accepting another 'official' best friend meant I was somehow being unfair to my other best friend. Similarly ridiculous, I've felt that to be truly settled here, I needed to cut myself off from my American ways. But really, I've got the best of both worlds (or rather, countries) by being able to visit and enjoy the things I love in America but then come back to Germany and enjoy the life here I love so much.

So while I'm stuffing my face with In'N'Out Burger, wine tasting in Napa, and shopping till I drop, I'll still be thinking of you, Germany. Here are just a few things I will miss...

Urban fence vineyards

Fest treats like warm, sugared nuts in every flavor imaginable

Poffertjes!

And of course beer, like these Belgian gems scored at the Mainzer Bierbörse fest

Incredibly beautiful apartments

Incredibly beautiful sunsets

Crazy German words, like this one with three 't's in a row

Of course, what I'll miss most of all...

that face!

Auf Wiedersehen for now, Germany - we'll be back before you know it!

*Daily Drop Cap by Alejandro Paul

Image by Michael Koploy via Good

or all of you who are complaining about the increasing gas prices in America, I found this lovely infographic that provides a little perspective. Unless you would like to move to Mexico or the United Arab Emirates (and I'm guessing that'd be a no), you actually have it pretty darn good - no, make that great - compared to the rest of the world.

So next time you're at the pump, pretend you're in Europe and do a quick calculation on what your total would be - then smile and do a little jig, because you're really only paying about half that. Lucky you!


*Daily Drop Cap by Jessica Hische

America birthday cupcakes -

best dark chocolate frosting, thanks to Martha Stewart

merica's birthday this year falls at a time when I'm feeling a little conflicted about life - and location. For some reason, I've been missing America so much more lately than in our first year here. Food cravings, friend cravings, and just a general, gentle pull at my heartstrings. Am I just missing my family? Or good restaurants besides the two or three we've found worth eating at? Or is it something more, like having a career (let alone a job) or the ability to pursue pretty much anything I'd like?

Some days, I just want to go where it's easier. But I know that waving my white flag and trekking our little family back across the Atlantic only trades one set of problems for another. Sure, I could communicate freely at any place of business (and actually get decent customer service, to boot!), but I'd be paying more for housing, health care and transportation. While gas is significantly less in the US (no matter how much Americans howl about how high the prices are), I'd be forced to own a car due to the lack of decent, comprehensive public transportation, which includes a hefty monthly payment and the need to drive significantly more to get to where I needed to go. My daily commutes in California were anywhere from 40 minutes to an hour and a half - each way. I'll never forget how hard I laughed when we first experienced what Germans referred to as 'traffic' during peak commute time around Frankfurt. It was lighter than mid-afternoon traffic pretty much anywhere in the SF bay area, not to mention that it moved like a well-oiled machine (because those rule-crazy Germans know how to drive). I won't even go into how much we'd pay for an apartment in SF like the one we have here in Germany (let's just say it would be at least 4 times the price). Ugh.

The US definitely stands out amongst the rest of the world here, but not in a good way (Chart via MotherJones)

My family and US friends would be closer, but with minimal vacation time from work (oh yeah, because in America we couldn't afford to be single-income any longer), there'd be less time to actually go and enjoy being with them. When my husband's company was recently purchased by a larger one, everyone was issued all the new company's policies to review. He discovered that working for the same company is the US, it would take an investment of 20 years in their employ before one accrued 25 days of holiday a year. Here in Germany, 6 weeks is standard - from day one. Americans, on average, put in 378 hours more per year than Germans (that's a whopping 10 weeks!). I think America's deep-seated attachment to capitalism is admirable, but as the economy and society change, it might be time to consider a more people-friendly way of running businesses. Without a good quality of life, what else is there? Money surely can't buy you time.

In America - the SF bay, particularly - I could have my pick of just about any kind of restaurant to eat out at and anything and everything you could imagine at the grocery store, but the quality would certainly be lacking. Reading labels in the German grocery store was an exercise in actually being able to understand an ingredients list. An unending, unpronounceable list of chemicals and the ubiquitous American corn syrup was surprisingly absent in almost everything (except, of course, from the American import section). Preservatives are also rare, meaning food in the grocery and in restaurants is perishable, and therefore fresh. Instinctively, it makes me think that Germany cares more about what it feeds to its people than America does. America seems to focus merely on profits, rather than the crap they're stuffing into their foods, and therefore the ever-expanding bellies of the population. 

Would you rather shop here...

or here? C'mon - no contest!

(Photo from MSLK)

While it is completely shallow, the shopping in the states is something I miss terribly. I buy a lot less over here, as do most Europeans, which I think is a good thing. I can't tell you how much crap I got rid of when packing up our cluttered home in California in preparation for a more pared-down lifestyle in Germany. What I do miss about shopping in America though is the show of it. Because America is such a consumerist society, so much money and effort goes into getting Americans to buy things - amazing selections, constant 'deals' and sales, beautiful store windows. Oh, the windows... While we're back, I think I may spend an entire day in a lounger in front of an Anthropologie and just take it all in. There's a level of presentation and creativity that exists in American shops that is completely absent here. Even if I wanted to pay an exorbitant amount for a shoddy-quality polyester shirt here, the utterly uninspiring windows and cheap-looking mannequins hardly motivate me to go inside. The one thing I do love about shopping here is the price you see is the price you pay - no guessing game on what the tax will be when you get to the register; it's all included.  

Even with all the 'pluses' I rack up on the side of living in Germany, and Europe in general, I can't help feeling a calling from the place where I spent the first 30 years of my life. Maybe it's the ease of the day-to-day that appeals to me most right now, considering the day-to-day is what fills my days in the current absence of job and career. But just because something is easier doesn't it mean it's the right thing. I remember having a French woman working in a Belgian bakery here in Germany tell me she'd been in the country for 10 years, but she struggled with the language. I realized then that the life of an expat is a long road.

When my family was out to visit over Christmas, my mother remarked how we were still in 'vacation mode' with our life here. At first, I was greatly offended. We were learning the language (granted, slowly), making German friends - we were residents of Germany, for goodness sake! But time and perspective made me start to think that maybe she was right. With limited cultural integration and language skills, it's easy to see Germany through rose-colored glasses. Sure, there's the low-level frustrations we still experience, like the lack of customer service or the utter ridiculousness of paying to install a kitchen in a rented apartment, but really, we don't know enough to understand all the issues that German citizens face and why we might or might not be better off over here for the long haul.

I guess what it boils down to is that it's impossible to say one country is wholly better than the other for me. One country holds my citizenship, the other holds my residency. I just feel torn since each one now holds a piece of who I am, yet neither feels 100% like home.


*Daily Drop Cap by Jessica Hische