Having grown up in the small town/city of Marietta, I’m very used to being the unicorn, the one thing that’s not like the others. Although I’ve had my fair share of overt racism, being followed around in stores, being called Michael Jackson, having parents end harmless teenage relationships because I was not white enough, I was still worried about moving to a small town in Germany. Perhaps the 5 years I spent in Hawai’i softened me. In Hawai’i I was a local girl minus the accent and surf skills. It was amazing to blend and not be constantly gawked at. When people did stare, it wasn’t because I was brown, it was because I did something stupid. Moving to Germany I went from being family to a foreigner. I had what I consider three negatives against a smooth transition, I am a brown, a American, and I didn’t speak german. I thought I was screwed.
At the onset I kept my head low, made little eye contact, and really hermitized myself in Dominic and I’s bedroom. When we did head out I tried at every turn to avoid speaking, as if my language was the only thing that ousted me as a foreigner. As stereotypical as this sounds, the only time I felt comfortable were the few times we went to a club and I could dance my cares away. Also, each time alcohol was around, my lips were a bit looser and my anxiety for speaking disappeared, otherwise I was a hermit crab hiding in my shell until the socialization was over.
Since September, I’ve been taking 4 hours a day of intense German. I still speak like a five year old, but what little germanI have learned, has given me confidence to engage with people more. I’m slowly losing the feeling of not belonging. Of course people stare, but that’s to be expected. In the US, with thousands of African Americans, I was stared at. Even the brown little girl I mentioned earlier, stares at me when we ride the bus together. People are curious, it’s not necessarily racism. They probably are trying to figure out who I am, where I’m from, and why I’m there. Especially now since many people of color are refugees, but I think when I walk hand in hand with my Bayrisch speaking boyfriend people lose the idea that I’m a war refugee. I also believe my attempt to speak German plays to my favor of being accepted in German. Once I learn Bayrisch I’ll be in better graces with my Bayrischer neighbors.
It’s now April and I’ve survived unscathed. The most severe experience I had with an impolite shopkeeper, was probably due to me politely interrupting her conversation then for my obvious foreignness. I was also asked by some strange man at the bus stop if I was from Phuket, who I just chose to ignore. Otherwise the stares are harmless and in fact many strangers feel comfortable enough to ask me for directions, the time, and other mundane questions you would ask someone you didn’t fear or hate. These are my experiences for now. I have a lifetime in Deutschland ahead. We will see if my comfort changes with my better understanding of the language and culture, perhaps my comfort is due to ignorance. That wouldn’t surprise me, the saying ignorance is bliss runs true.