Featured photo is of a creek that runs thorough my neighborhood on my usual dog walking route.
You’d think after so many years living in Germany, I would have gotten to the point at which I’m completely used to anything that might come up. But sometimes I still get unpleasant surprises. I’m a little shaken up right now, although no harm was done.
This morning, the weather is really nice. The sun is shining, and the temperature is mild, and almost pleasant. I had a relatively good time practicing my guitar and banjo, so I was in a fairly decent mood.
The dogs were ready for their daily walk, so I took them on our usual short route. In retrospect, maybe it would have been better if we’d gone for a longer walk. Then, today’s altercation would have been easily avoided.
When I walk the dogs, I usually make a point of trying to avoid other people. Noyzi gets scared, and spooks when he’s around strangers. But today, I was just wanting to get back to the house, because I am doing laundry, and I don’t like to run the dryer when I’m not at home.
As I was crossing the Dorfplatz, I was thinking about this blog, and how I used to write in it a lot more than I have been lately. I started thinking about how, sometimes, I wish I were in my own country… not as it is now, but the way it was before the Trump regime began. I even had a thought about how living in another country can be inconvenient and annoying, and the charm can start to wear off after some time has passed.
I was still deep in thought about that when I turned onto Ellengasse, a narrow pedestrian thoroughfare that runs from my street to the Dorfplatz area. A bunch of teenagers and a couple of adults were coming down the hill.
I thought nothing of it, because we often run into people on that little street. Some of them come from the school that was recently repurposed from being an elementary school to being some other kind of school for older children.
After today’s incident, I’m guessing maybe kids with special needs are being taught there. I did hear someone screaming like a banshee the other day when I passed. It didn’t sound like a normal child at play’s scream, but more like wailing. (ETA: My German friend has now confirmed that the former elementary school is currently being used as a school for kids with special needs.)
A tall boy said something to me in German. I could hardly hear him and didn’t understand him, anyway, so I just kept going. People I don’t know often say stuff to me. I usually just kind of glance at them without saying anything. I just want to mind my own business and get to wherever it is I’m going.
But then, all of a sudden, the whole group started YELLING! There was one older woman in particular who seemed especially hostile as she shouted at me. I was very confused, and probably returned some hostility with my eyes.
I couldn’t begin to understand any of them. Even if I spoke fluent German, I think it would have been hard, because they took me completely by surprise. I wasn’t thinking of them, anyway. I was thinking about going home to my laundry and taking a shower. And I was thinking of Noyzi, who was getting spooked by the sudden commotion.
I stood there for about a minute, with them yelling at me, and with me probably looking puzzled and really pissed off, not understanding them over the noise, and due to my lack of language skills. Sudden verbal assaults aren’t so great for language comprehension.
Then, probably to their surprise, I shouted back, “I AM AN AMERICAN!! I don’t understand you!” It was the first time I’ve ever yelled back at Germans who were yelling at me. 😳🤭
I probably looked pretty angry, because I was. Seriously… I was just trying to go home, using a route I’ve used thousands of times. I was minding my own business, doing something perfectly legal, and not expecting to be attacked simply for walking my dogs up the hill. And I had no idea what the issue was, and didn’t want any trouble with them.
A young, handsome, adult male, who was probably a teacher, then grimaced sheepishly and said, “There’s a girl in our group who is very afraid of dogs. Would you please take another route?”
I probably still looked irritated, as I turned and walked Noyzi and Charlie the other way so the group could safely pass. Being shouted at really puts me on edge. Although in fairness to them, I do look like I could be a local.
As the group passed, the young male teacher kept looking over at me. He appeared to be rather nervous, as I walked the dogs away from Ellengasse. He repeatedly said “Thank you,” adding “She’s autistic.” I got the sense that he was a little embarrassed… as was I.
I said, “It’s okay. I understand.” After they passed, I continued the way I had been going before our unfortunate altercation.
And I do understand… but I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t still a bit unsettled and upset by that experience. I’m sorry I reacted that way. I’m sorry that, yet again, I have offended someone by my mere presence with my sweet, gentle dogs, while simply taking a walk in my own neighborhood.
I do sincerely wish my German was better. But sometimes, I also kind of wish I could just go home and be in my own country, where this kind of unnerving thing is less likely to happen. On the other hand, I’m a lot more likely to be shot by a rando in the USA than I am here. I guess being shot is much worse than being screamed at by total strangers in my neighborhood.
It’s not the first time I’ve been yelled at by random Germans for doing something perfectly normal in a situation that wasn’t quite normal. I don’t know what my facial expression was… I’ve been told that when I’m upset, I look pretty mean… and I have a feeling I looked angry when they started yelling at me. I don’t take kindly to that at all, even though they had a good reason to say something to me.
But Jesus Christ… what if I was deaf? Or had some other kind of disability that made it impossible for me to understand what the problem was? There was a time in my life that a confrontation like that would have made me burst into tears from humiliation and fear. I was once that fragile, years ago… before I got chemical help for depression.
Anyway… now I can go take a shower and spend the rest of the afternoon recovering from that incident. Living here does give me a lot of empathy for people in the United States who can’t yet speak English, as I feel bad for not being fluent in German. On the other hand, it’s never effective to yell at people if you actually expect them to listen. Especially when they’re total strangers.
I guess it just goes to show you that even on a fifteen minute walk in your neighborhood, unusual, unexpected, and unpleasant things can still happen.
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