They are everywhere: at theme parks in front of each roller coaster, in stores at each cashier, at red lights in front of intersections, and everywhere in airports. Queues – one person, standing behind another, waiting. Waiting, chatting, waiting, tapping a foot, waiting, texting, waiting, making a call, checking a watch, and waiting some more.

In English, especially in the United States, this waiting ritual is referred to as “standing in line.” A line connotes that everyone lines up perfectly behind one another, and implies a sense of order. Many theme parks and banks erect a series of barriers to direct the “wait-ees” to wander back and forth, still in one long line, always getting closer to their destination, while packing as many people into the smallest possible area. Alternatively, most supermarket and department stores, instead of managing one long queue, each cash register has its own line; the shopper must then choose one, and hope that the cashier in the selected line is faster.

In German, the act of standing in a queue is called “in einer Schlange stehen,” literally translated as “to stand in a snake.” The reference to a snake implies that the formation is more fluid, and the “line” can take twists and turns. The many short lines are de rigueur; you will be hard-pressed to find the one long line with barriers. And one more thing – cutting in line is a way of life.

So is everyone equally conscious of standing, well mannered, either in a straight or a curved line? Culturally, in the United States, people are more patient with the process than in Germany, as illustrated by airline passengers. While everyone stands in an orderly line for the security screening, once passengers reach the gate, all bets are off. As I recently boarded a flight in Frankfurt, once the first seating section was called to board, every single passenger swarmed towards the jetway, elbowing their way ahead. Alternatively, when I board a flight in the U.S., a straight line of elite mileage status fliers casually forms near the jetway even before they are called, and no one even tries to cut in line; once boarding begins, other passengers stay seated and await their seating section to be called.

Maybe the lesson is to wear running shoes and elbow pads in Germany? My strategy for flying domestically is different: I have rediscovered Tetris to keep myself entertained while in line!

*Birgit

“Do unto others as you would have them do unto you.” Regardless of any religious affiliation, the sentiment is the same in most world religions: treat others as you would like to be treated. This is often referred to as the “Golden Rule,” which ensures a balance of behavior in a community.

Several sayings have taken this one step farther, from not only treating each other well – to proactively helping one another.

In German, we say that “eine Hand waescht die andere,” or “one hand washes the other.” Imagine trying to wash your hands using only one hand. As I can attest to, having broken my wrist several months ago, it is not only difficult, but almost impossible to rinse soap off using only one hand! Only together can many goals be accomplished (insert any “team work” stories here). Using the analogy of hands in this idiom is an extension of the common greeting of shaking one another’s hands in Germany. This is true not just in a business environment, but for social greetings as well. The tradition dates back to the days of showing that your hands are empty, a practice common even in the “Wild West,” where proof of not holding a gun was required!

In English, we more commonly say that “I’ll scratch your back, you scratch mine.” This alone implies some trust in reciprocity, since (unless you are engaged in a hug), you cannot be scratching each others’ backs at the same time. Someone must make the first move, and trusts that at the right time, the subject of the back-scratching will return the favor. And for anyone who has tried to scratch a (physical) itch in the center of your back, you will know that some help is very much appreciated. The little wooden back-scratchers come in handy for the more literal interpretation, but not for any help in other ventures.

Here’s wishing you clean hands, few itches – and help with those you can’t scratch yourself.

*Birgit

“I’m just going around the corner.” To many people, this means that I moving, and am physically walking, or driving, around the corner. I will go out on a limb to say that this phrase is more often heard sitting at a bar with friends. This may seem odd, but when I say it in German, “ich gehe mal um die Ecke,” it means that I am going to use the restroom. Sometimes, it is even shortened, from the “I need to go around the corner,” or “ich muss mal um die Ecke,” to just stating that “I need to,” or “ich muss mal.” No further explanation necessary. Physically, yes, the restroom is usually around one, or several, corners, not to mention up or down at least one set of stairs. Interestingly, this shortened version is very close to the slang, “I need to go,” in instances where the speaker is clearly not leaving the party. No one has ever seen the need to explain exactly where they are going.

The next closest phase in the English language actually comes from the Navy, in which sailors “hit the head.” The location refers to the bow, the front of the ship, where the salt water sprays washed over the area which had a cleansing effect. The “head” refers to the carvings of figureheads, attached to the bow, which were thought to ensure a safe voyage or a successful battle. These carved heads took the form of mermaids, pirates, Vikings, as well as religious and mythological figures. I will still never look at a historical ship in the same way.

I realize that I am running into the danger of countless examples of bathroom humor, but it is still amazing that there are so many euphemisms on this topic. Few people use the word “toilet” in the Americas or in Europe. Instead, we have the “WC,” common in Germany, which is literally translated as a “water closet,” referring to the indoor plumbing that took care of waste. But who actually rests in a restroom? While some high-end hotels have small lounges as an entry into the actual restroom, I have never seen anyone linger. Most of us prefer to rest elsewhere.

*Birgit

Here I am again, in a hotel, unable to get housekeeping to find me a box of Kleenex. Excuse me, a box of facial tissue. I have no idea which brand is provided by this hotel. This problem of the disappearing tissues is not unique to a hotel in a particular country; I always seem to be that one guest that gets the last six tissues in the box. I now pack the small tissue packages in my purse, in my computer bag, and in my suitcase, so I will never again need to use the (in hotels) typically not-so-soft toilet paper to blow my nose.

There have been debates for years about the use of a brand in writing. On the other hand, casual conversations cannot be regulated. The term “tissue,” in German “Papiertaschentuecher,” literally translated as “paper handkerchiefs,” is only one example. In the United States, Kleenex is synonymous with facial tissues. In Germany, the brand that has this distinction is Tempo.

Looking at the companys’ histories on their respective Web sites (ref: http://www.kleenex.com and http://www.tempo-web.de), the companies have had a remarkably similar history. Both started their path in the 1920’s, both were the first company in their respective countries to produce a facial tissue, both have used popular cartoon characters in their packaging as advertisement, and both have expanded their packaging options. Kleenex has managed to penetrate the European market more than Tempo has done in the Americas, but neither has lost its place in its home language.

On a more personal note, I grew up on the pocket packs in Germany. When my family moved to the US in the early seventies, these pocket packs were not prevalent, at least not in our supermarket or drug store. That led to carting around a large box of Kleenex in the back seat of the car, typically wedged between the back seat and the rear window. At the same time, during those long summer vacations in which we would visit Germany, we had trouble finding large boxes, so we purchased stacks and stacks of the pocket packs.

In the meantime, every color, aroma, lotion, and design are available, in all sizes and packages, on both sides. Maybe it is the power of suggestion, but I think I feel a sneeze coming on. Please pass me a Kleenex. Oops, I’m in Germany right now; please pass me a Tempo.

*Birgit

Birthdays. A very timely topic, considering that I just celebrated one. In my family, birthdays have always been bigger than Christmas - many people celebrate Christmas, but my birthday is, well, mine. While I rationally know that there are others who share my birth-date, and lists of celebrities are published regularly, I still have the proud feeling that my birth-day is my own.

The typical German greeting, "Alles Gute zum Geburtstag," literally meaning "wishing you everything good on your birthday," is best translated to "Best wishes on your birthday." In recent years, though, the phrase "Happy Birthday" has been accepted into other cultures and languages. On German Internet sites, I find that at least half of the selection for online greeting cards is an English-language, "Happy Birthday" greeting. Of course, there is the odd phonetic version of how "Happy Birthday" would be spelled in the way it is pronounced in German ("Happi Boersday" is one variation); while this was common a few years ago, the German-phonetic version is now difficult to find, and the typical English-language spelling is now prevalent.

There is one big difference, in the timing of congratulating the birthday-boy or birthday-girl. For example, if my birthday were to fall on a Saturday, my German colleagues would either send an e-mail on the actual day, or wait until they returned to work the following Monday. In Germany, wishing someone a happy birthday prior to the actual, momentous day, means bad luck, so everyone is careful to make sure that they do not send greetings too early. It is better to be fashionably late.

In the US, my colleagues would wish me a happy birthday on Friday, before I left for the weekend. Late is apparently bad....although, I have to admit, on some Internet sites, the belated birthday cards are funnier than the "regular" cards. I have explained the German tradition to colleagues in the US, and while they understand that early wishes are not a good omen, three hours later on the same hypothetical Friday, one day prior to the actual day, they will still congratulate me.

I have since decided to accept the message, considering the messenger. If someone from the US wishes me a Happy Birthday early, that is attentive. If someone from Germany does it, I worry. One colleague just told me on the phone that she had waited until it was definitely my birth-date in my own time zone before she sent me a greeting. That's a good vibe!

Of course, I was born in the German time zone, at 2:50 am. Meaning that in the US, I would have been born on the prior day (in the Pacific time zone) at 5:50 pm. But - a date is a date, or so my license tells me.

At any rate: Happy Birthday to Me ;) (and this is not posted too early!!)
*Birgit

p.s. I still opened the champagne a day early, with the excuse of the time zone calculation. And by the way...in the US, the party would have started the evening of the birthday. A common German tradition is to celebrate "into" a birthday, starting the day before and going past midnight to initiate the birth-date, is often part of the celebration. Cheers.

Have you ever had one of those weeks in which you just have entirely too much to do? A week in which you feel that your to-do list grows exponentially, even though you have already crossed off at least a dozen tasks? Doesn't matter whether the to-do list is for work or for personal stuff, or even both. Yes, I've just had one of those weeks in which I'm completely swamped.

"Swamped" brings up images of marshlands, washing over me. Being swept away by mud certainly does not sound like a pleasant experience. But then, having too much to do is also not pleasant. "Swamped" is one of those idioms that has even made it into standard dictionary definitions, such as Merriam-Webster (ref: http://www.m-w.com/dictionary/swamped), "to overwhelm numerically or by an excess of something: flood ."

The direct German translation of "swamp" is "Sumpf." However, no one would use Sumpf to indicate being overwhelmed. Instead, I would say that I am "unter Wasser," or under water. While the imagery is similar, with some kind of liquid washing over me, the German idiom does not connotate mud or muck. A typical statement would be, "ich bin bei der Arbeit komplett unter Wasser," or "at work, I am completely swamped."

To take the word Sumpf one step farther, Germans have been known to say "ich bin versumpft," literally translating into "becoming marshy." At first glance, that would have been the logical translation of being swamped, or under water. But since when has language, and especially idioms been logical? "Ich bin gestern versumpft" actually translates to "Yesterday, I stayed out late, drinking."

Right now, although I am still swamped, I will leave my to-do list for the rest of the day, and experience another way of being under water. See you at the pool.

Second grade homework is not something that typically stays with you. Except for the one assignment that gave me the idea for this blog.

We were told to select three phrases that brought a picture to our minds, and then draw them. Next, we were to explain to the class what the saying really meant. I still recall the picture I drew of a little man, with a bright green shirt and blue pants (the color that most closely resembled jeans in my crayon box). Poor guy, I drew him in a bright red strawberry jam jar. To spell it out, yes, he was "in a jam." (At this time, I will ignore the jam versus jelly discussions, which only second-graders can interpret into a simple assignment.)

The "Simple English Wikipedia" defines an idiom as "...a word or phrase which means something different from what it says," and goes on to say that "Only people who are very good at speaking the language of the idiom will know what an idiom means." (ref: http://simple.wikipedia.org/wiki/Idiom) This is very true, since being "in a jam" will not mean much to someone just learning the English language.

Yet every language has these idioms. Some sayings, if translated, are almost the same, while others are worlds apart, assuming, of course, that I still had to draw them as a second grader. For example, the German equivalent is "in der Patsche sitzen." Interestingly, in current dictionaries, the meaning of the word "Patsche" has almost gotten lost as its own noun. In most dialects, it means a large hand. Of course, as a second-grader, I could have had a field-day with a vivid graphic of "sitting in the large hand."

Still: while the images are certainly different, I can imagine that both situations are difficult to get out of.

I will be exploring these idioms in the posts to come. As a native German, I will draw primarily on my native knowledge of both English and German. Please enjoy.

*Birgit

p.s. Oh, and as for the man in the jam jar? I drew a ladder to help him get out.