Hello dear world!

How's it going with you today?
The last couple of days in my life have been busy, busy busy. Like a little bee, I buzzed all over Herford in order to research the topic of this, my latest blog, thoroughly and carefully. And the idea for this blog was actually suggested by the first friend I made because of this blog - yes, I am indeed talking about you, Alexander. I hope everything is well in Rostock!
German cuisine - these two words create a whole lot of images and connotations in the English-speaker's mind's eye, I imagine. To all of our embarrassment and very surprisingly to me, they are really and truly mostly wrong! But let me elaborate for all of my German friends:
The first and most important word that springs to mind when we think about the way Germans ingest everything they need in order to survive is one of the very few German words we took over into the English language... "KRAUT". Some of my fellow native-English speakers might not even know that this literally translates into terms like "cabbage" or maybe "herbs" (some Irish or English people might only think that Kraut is a derogatory word for German people). So in the past (and present?) we thought of you as a nation of cabbage-eaters- so much for flattering, courteous stereotypes!

Because...    cabbage...     - I mean, come on...

(We Irish are supposed to hold cabbage among other food like potato in high regard, but the girls and guys from my generation have, as I'd like to think, evolved...).

So, boys and girls, what is the truth behind this "Kraut"-myth that is so prominent in the English-speaking world?

Well, as with so many things German, the truth is just a little, little more complicated than that. And so manifold, wondrous and exhilarating is the universe of German food that this short little text can scarcely do it justice... all prejudice and sarcasm aside!
So, a small attempt at one tiny overview:

German breakfast:
Oh - ladies and gentlemen, although the good old Irish (or English) breakfast (over here sometimes known as brunch, although this term covers in Germany a somewhat wider range of food) is absolutely not common over here, there is one divine thing that the Germans do better than any nation on earth - (bread) rolls. And yes, I know, we have them too, but they hardly deserve the same name! German rolls rule! I cannot imagine life without them anymore. Yes, they are that good! And this also goes for most of their breads - German bakeries, if they are run by true bakers who know their craft, are a gift from the heavens.
The rest of the German breakfast hardly bears any surprises - cereals and cornflakes are quite common. Jam (not so much what we know as marmalade) and Nutella (a hazelnut-based sweet-spread if you haven't heard about it) are as popular as cheese and salami, ham, bacon and the likes. Cheese and meat are also very delicious and manifold in their variety. But to both matters I will have to come back in a later blog. On the matter of sausages alone libraries could be filled.
German coffee is really excellent - although Germany, of course, doesn't grow any coffee beans - so it would be fairer to say that the Germans are Coffee-connoisseurs, they have a good eye for real quality coffee and demand nothing less.
Tea, although there is a wide variety of it, including pretty much the tea we have as well, really sucks! Excuse my language, sweetest reader who might still believe in the benefits of political correctness, but I always found, that colloquial language can express dissatisfaction much better and more effectively than any well-expressed and high-minded eloquence.
I have been giving the observation, that tea over here "just ain't no good" considerable thought and came to one inescapable conclusion - it must be the water - German tap water must be in some way different from Irish, English or even American tap water. That tea here is just some sort of sordid brew reconstitutes in me the belief in some universal scales of justice - good coffee equals bad tea and vice versa.

So, dear readers, we have almost come to the end of just another blog - and I hope that you at least partly enjoyed yourselves and/or found some of the information interesting or even useful. I'll be back (pun intended) with more blogs about German food - and this is because, as I mentioned at the beginning, I have done and am still doing thorough research on this interesting subject matter. There is an endless amount of interesting stories to tell - mouth-watering tales of a "Schlaraffenland" (best English translation to my mind is "land of milk and honey", though you might have heard of Cockaigne as well) beyond your wildest dreams - and this is no hyperbole or exaggeration, dear French, Italian or Korean reader!

So, if you remember the title I chose, you might ask yourself - what is stupid Irish lass's problem?

Simple - I am a girl.

I am overly sensitive for media-controlled ideas and role-models of what is supposed to be beautiful.

Being slim is one of the key values in these concepts.

Now, don't get me wrong, I am rather slender and always have been, but German breakfast cuisine among other things (like desserts that are called "Schwarzwälder Kirschtorte" - but more about this later - it is totally worth a blog of its own) put me into either one of two never-ending vicious circles:

The one of temptation, satisfaction and  ensuing frustration

or

the one of temptation, resistance and equally strong ensuing frustration.

So much for me and my current troubles - maybe just one last thing:
Dear reader, I would really, really, really, really appreciate it very much if you write a comment on these blogs or contact me via ICQ and talk to me, especially if
a) you are German
b) you are a native-English-speaker with some knowledge about the Krauts ;-)
c) you are from anywhere on the planet and like to talk about anything intercultural or cross-cultural that you experienced personally.

That input would be really great and helpful for me!

Thank you very much for our interesting talks again, Alexander. Hope to talk to you soon again - if you don't find me online, you probably have a pretty good idea of what I'm doing after reading this blog...

Looking forward, dear readers, to hearing from you,

Yours truly



Kitty

Hello wide world!
I hope I find you well today.
And here's another hope I secretly carry within that little, scary heart of mine - namely that this week's headline in my beloved little blog will provoke some of your, dearest imaginary readers, into some kind of response that finds its way as a text e.g. into my chat-window, mailbox or anything similar.
Provoke... provocative... (Don't you just love the sound of these words?) - that is basically the admirable mentality to take a step beyond your own little inner sanctum and rub yourself comfortably against the harsh, cruel outside world. And of course, dearest fellow-members of the human race you just love to chat yourselves up all the time, I am not quite that serious as my title sounds - I cherish those pathetic little conversations with myself quite a lot. Is this really escapism, make-belief, protecting ourselves against a world that is not as we'd like it to be? These were some questions I was confronted with recently by one of those annoying members of the German nation. "Annoying" you ask, eye-brows raised in (mocking?) concern, partly suspecting simple-minded tendency towards stereotype, cliché or maybe even prejudice? Yes! Absolutely so! But allow me to elaborate:
The annoying qualities found in some of the Germans I've met so far are that, among other things

• they can be pretty to very observant if they want to - resulting in the fact that they notice things about you that you never realized before (the surprise can be a quite disorienting sensation)
• in public places, as well as in some social surroundings, the Germans  tend to be very quiet. This can be quite unnerving in combination with observation No. 1 made above (at least the Germans where I live, Herford is in Northrhine-Westfalia, Geography-lessons about this town will follow up in one of the on-coming blogs)
• Germans don't appear to sing in supermarkets (as a symbol for public places permanently playing soft background music)  - and that's something that I am quite used to listening to and doing myself at home in merry old Ireland. If you are German or live in Germany, try doing it and observe the horrified expressions you provoke - doubting your mental sanity is the very mildest response you'll face... 
• surprisingly, Germans, once they've warmed up to you, do like to talk and are quite adept at it (which insults my previously unshakable belief that we Irish do this best) - this can catch you quite by surprise.
• Once Germans talk to you, they make you think! I start to wonder if there is some truth in our image of Germans as a nation of philosophers.

Anyway, as I am sure you've guessed already, some conversations, chats and talks with those Teutonic barbarians have made me question my inherent inclination towards talking (or even better singing) to myself as a sign of either droll, Woody-Allen-style psychological idiosyncrasy or (much worse!!!) a subconscious cry for help out of the sheer loneliness and isolation of my heart (Cry Havoc! Unleash the dogs of war!).
However, the ensuing phase of self-doubt and presumably surprising insight has past after two nights of nail-biting and self-flagellation, and I am ready to defend any form of muttering that is not directly directed at a fellow human being:

We, the talkers to ourselves, commit this irritating act because we are in love with communication.
We believe that this is not a sign of isolation and neglect but rather of a rich, complex and prosperous inner life. An extremely positve side effect of this - we tend to not get bored (with ourselves least of all).
We are occupied with dealing with the world when engaged in acts of self-conversation - and not obsessed with keeping our countenance all the time.
We are familiar with the complexity of our surrounding world and aware of the necessity of good counsel in difficult situations - and we take it from the best: Ourselves!

Ha! Showed 'em, didn't I?

Ups- and I did it again... talking to myself! Unless you might want to comment this time on my defence of the innocent art of articulating your own stream of consciousness? Please, please, please, dear imaginary readers, free me just a little bit from this prison of my mind by conversing with me! I'd simply love to talk to you ;-).

Have a nice one,

Yours

Kitty

Hi everybody! I am quite fond of a lot of old fashioned things, as for instance formal introductions, proper spelling, capital letters (where appropriate) and good grammar. You can quote me on this when you destroy me with your insightful, witty, droll and well-observed insights which you will post as clever little comments (or at least I hope you will do - let's see if it pays to be an optimist in this case).
Allow me the pleasure of introducing myself, as I said just a second ago, I am quite fond of these old and quaint little customs and traditions - my name is Kathleen (Kitty) Jones, I am from Dublin, Ireland and currently spending presumably a year in Herford, Germany on an errand of probably vain attempts to discover cross-cultural differences between the English-speaking world and the deep, brooding and scarily effective (at least when it comes to economics, or so common prejudice likes to believe) Teutonic mind, culture, psychology (uh - Freud comes to mind, and German was his mother tongue!), economy, sociology and presumably a whole bunch of other important-sounding words ending with a -y. I also have the perfect title for my neat little research project: "Studies in Futility". Unless, in rare cases of unprecedented generosity, dear fellow-traveller/German researcher/Teutonic adventurer you might like to share your personal little insights, experiences, anecdotes or anything else worth sharing about these "Deutsche" as they like to call themselves (I love Charlie Chaplin's The Great Dictator!).
Therefore, allow me to send this, my very first blog, believe it or not, into the world and see, if you, dear reader (if you exist) can prove me wrong - is there something to be said about these bloody Germans? And even if you agree with the rather cynical scepticism of my first title, if you're up for it, I believe we might at least get some entertainment out of our future discourse (if we manage to establish one that is based on keen observation as well as a profound and distinguished sense of style - but I'm sure you have something to teach about that). So you see, you have the power over the title of my next (the very first second blog entry I will ever write) text: It might sound something like "Avoid, if you are able too... being an optimist".
There remain only two more things I'd like you to consider:
1. <!-- /* Style Definitions */ p.MsoNormal, li.MsoNormal, div.MsoNormal {mso-style-parent:""; margin:0cm; margin-bottom:.0001pt; mso-pagination:widow-orphan; font-size:12.0pt; font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-ansi-language:EN-GB;} @page Section1 {size:612.0pt 792.0pt; margin:70.85pt 70.85pt 2.0cm 70.85pt; mso-header-margin:36.0pt; mso-footer-margin:36.0pt; mso-paper-source:0;} div.Section1 {page:Section1;} -->

What gets us into trouble is not what we don't know. It's what we know for sure that just ain't so.

2. <!-- /* Style Definitions */ p.MsoNormal, li.MsoNormal, div.MsoNormal {mso-style-parent:""; margin:0cm; margin-bottom:.0001pt; mso-pagination:widow-orphan; font-size:12.0pt; font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-ansi-language:EN-GB;} @page Section1 {size:612.0pt 792.0pt; margin:70.85pt 70.85pt 2.0cm 70.85pt; mso-header-margin:36.0pt; mso-footer-margin:36.0pt; mso-paper-source:0;} div.Section1 {page:Section1;} -->

If you tell the truth you don't have to remember anything.

Both of these are quotations by Samuel Clemens. Looking forward to hearing from you,

Yours

Kitty