Writer's Block in Germany - About 20 km southeast of Stuttgart, Germany
Digg this page
| 
Save This Page
| 
Stumble It!Aabout 20 km southeast of Stuttgart, Germany
Someday I hope to be a writer, and I correctly anticipated that my year on a chicken farm in Germany would be a perfect place to pursue that dream. My busy world back in the US, overfilled with friends, familiarity and distraction that made it very difficult to set aside time for writing, was suddenly replaced by a very different one; my lighter work schedule, sudden reduction in number of friends, and isolation on a farm all meant that I had plenty of free time to write. After a month in Germany, I have come across enough material to keep me writing for quite a while.
I could write about my experiences on my job assignment, and assortment of characters with whom I work. My job in an egg-packing and sorting factory has been both a challenge and a pleasure. Waldemar, a Russian immigrant, ex-bodybuilder, ex-army machine gunner with golden teeth is whom I most closely work with. We manage to somewhat communicate in our respective broken German, and occasionally teach one another little words & phrases in our native languages. There's Frau Schweig in the office (the world's most grandmotherly and kind old woman) and her counterpart Herr Hummel, a music nut who is constantly singing or whistling a) a tune from Phantom of the Opera, b) the Chariots of Fire theme, or c) the Star-Spangled Banner.
Rounding out the cast is a revolving set of mostly older women, whom I daily pick up and drop off in the nearest village. The oldest one of the bunch, Frau Vaas, never fails to remind me that at a stoplight, red means stop and green means go.
My time at work is mostly spent stacking boxes of eggs onto pallets and moving them around from place to place. I also sometimes work in the small store that is here on the farm, to which lots of people from the surrounding villages come and buy eggs direct from the source. My German skills are often stretched to, and sometimes beyond, the limit in that setting. The most stressful times at work have occurred during communication breakdowns with egg customers. Murphy's Law also holds true on this side of the Atlantic - cash register malfunction seems to occur most frequently during times of communication difficulty. While the job is probably not the most exciting thing imaginable, it has been enjoyable. I have recently been allowed to occasionally answer the telephone; although only a small responsibility, it feels like a recognition of my improving German, and it is rewarding when I can understand and make myself understood without the help of sign language. In the future lies more excitement as I have been promised that soon I will be allowed to drive the forklift, a big step up from my current pallet jack and handcart responsibilities.
My experiences with my host family have also provided plenty of good writing fodder. I am living with the family right here on the egg farm, and a household with six young, boisterous children certainly never lacks for excitement. The children, 5 boys and 1 girl between the ages of 5 and 14, alternately bicker and cooperate, and sometimes obey their parents. The father, Daniel, is busy from sunup to sundown keeping the whole operation (30,000 chickens, lots of wheat and corn, some ducks, geese and rabbits, and about 30 employees) running as smoothly as possible; he begins work, makes brief appearances in the house for meals, and usually ends the day nodding off on the couch. Despite his extremely full schedule, he is very easy-going and cheerful. Heide, the mother, has her hands full as well - cooking, cleaning, conflict resolving and child care leave her at least as tired as her husband every evening. Louis, the old, black, shaggy dog splits his time between sleeping inside and sleeping outside. Every night he keeps us safe, laying in front of the door so as to trip any intruders. I occupy a middle ground between the children and the parents, spending time with both. The kids take great delight in my computer games and in my attention, which they attract in a variety of creative ways. Most of my time with the parents is spent in the late evenings, after the kids have gone to bed. We often sit in the living room drinking wine and telling stories. They savor the brief pause before morning brings a new flurry of activity, while I simply appreciate the friendship and acceptance I have found so far from my own home.
The beauty of my surroundings, both natural and human-made, has been another inspiration. My first week here, an evening storm suddenly cleared right at sunset; to the west the entire sky turned fiery orange, while a complete rainbow stood against the black storm clouds to the east. The contrasting beauty of the sunset and rainbow with the violence of the storm was appropriate to the physical location of my placement - a quiet farm surrounded by acres of cropland, but located only a few miles from a city of nearly 600,000 and a major airport. I could fill pages with all the other things that I've found aesthetically pleasing - the quaint little Shire-like villages that are everywhere, and the castles and cathedrals that invariably overlook towns of any size, to name just two.
A change in physical geography also provides a new perspective from which to approach deeper philosophical issues. Among my peers back in the United States, Europe was a shining beacon of progressive society and responsible living. In liberal American circles, everything about Europe seems an improvement on its American counterpart - they ride bikes and drive fuel efficient cars, while we have Hummers and a president who makes mockery of environmental concerns. They have healthcare and higher education provided for to a degree that makes us envious, and shame us with their generous treatment of society's less fortunate. They have history and culture, great food, trendy clothes...there's just something intangibly cool about Europe, or at least Europe as it exists in the minds of young, progressive Americans who recognize (rightfully so) that something is seriously amiss with the way our country is run. And so I boarded the plane and headed for the land of plenty.
And now a month later, I sit here reflecting and writing about what I have learned during my brief time in Europe so far. As I had perhaps suspected but been afraid to admit to myself, not everything here is perfect. Earlier today I received an education on Europe's darker side in the form of an hour-and-a-half long post-lunch rant by my host father, Daniel. Germany has dug itself quite a financial hole with its immense social spending and bureaucracy, and with one of the lowest birthrates in the world, is rapidly approaching, or as some fear, has already reached, the point where the tax base can no longer support things. Germany is, as Daniel put it, teetering on the edge of collapse. European unity is another hot issue - one that sounds very welcome and needed on a continent whose history has been anything but unified. Beneath the name, however, sometimes lie unpleasant realities; one example being the exodus of jobs from Germany to cheaper labor markets in eastern Europe, and the resulting increase in unemployment.
Everyone here seems to realize that the current German way of life (a seemingly perfect combination of a light work schedule and a multitude of free social services) is unsustainable, yet no one wants to be the one to suffer. Everyone realizes that spending needs to decrease or people need to work harder, but no one wants to lose their bike paths or six weeks of paid vacation (yes - Germans have six weeks paid leave a year). When people are comfortable, they are very reluctant to change, until...until what? Daniel trailed off his rant with the same question and a nervous laugh. Today is the 11th of September. Three years ago, an "until" of a different sort became "now" in America, and the bloodbath continues to this day. I say this not to insinuate that German social woes will come to a head in similar fashion, but to underscore Daniel's question and laugh. Everyone knows that "until" might not be pleasant, but we're waiting for it anyway.
And so I am in Germany, surrounded by a new language and culture. I'm gradually learning to know both, as well as making many new friends. The onslaught of ideas and writing material has been relentless; for a young aspiring writer my time here has been ideal. Yet somehow, I am finding it difficult to write anything. As I sift through the beautiful, the ugly and everything between, I am learning that I must simply allow myself to write when I am moved to do so. Writing that springs from strong emotion is authentic; mechanical writing - that which is done only because it seems like something I should do as a fledgling writer - is uninspired. And so I continue to work, carrying boxes of eggs and stacking them. I continue to make new friends, and enjoy my time with them. I live my life as life is lived anywhere, and allow the writing to come when it wants. I still hope to be a writer someday.
Andrew Jenner graduated from Eastern Mennonite University (Harrisonburg, VA) in April 2004 with degrees in Environmental Science and Justice, Peace and Conflict Studies. He is currently spending a year in Germany with a Mennonite work-exchange program called Intermenno. He has immensely enjoyed his time thus far, although was dismayed to discover that the cancer of Wal-Mart has spread to Europe as well. In his spare time he reads, 'rites, runs and relaxes.
Digg this page
| Save This Page
| Stumble It!
