The theme for the issue is "time," and that was really all the direction we were given. I find it's often harder for me to write things when I don't have a clear instructions on what the receiving party is looking for.
That's something I'm really going to have to work on, hey?
Anyway, here it is:
The Value of Time
When I first arrived in Munich at the beginning of September, I remember a time where I was waiting for the S-Bahn along with a myriad of other travelers—locals as well as tourists—and I remember that the S-Bahn was late.
The sign suspended above the platform informed the awaiting passengers that their train would be arriving in 2 minutes, now 1 minute, now 0 minutes. Still no train.
Anyone standing in that underground station as this particular S-Bahn turned out to be tardy could have immediately identified the German locals from the temporary visitors. As an American who is accustomed to changes in schedules, system breakdowns and lapses in punctuality, I just stood patiently for the few extra minutes it took for the train to arrive. But my patient silence stood out in the crowd of exasperated Germans, who could be heard sighing with impatience and tapping their feet on the ground and could be seen checking their watches every few seconds, as if calculating just how late this error was going to cause them to be.
This type of situation is rarely seen in Germany. One thing I have come to adore about this country is its remarkably efficient and, with the exception of a few instances, punctual transit system. In fact, I have become so used to the train schedule that I have my watch set to the exact second I know my train will arrive at the Lehel U-Bahn stop. And, if my train is late, you would now find me amongst the crowd of toe-tappers and watch-checkers.
The German transportation system and how Germans relate to it is not the only lesson in time with which I will leave this country. From the moment I arrived, and the realization that I was going to be a resident of this country for 10 months settled in, I started to observe vast differences in the way that Germans value their time.
It’s not a groundbreaking observation that people in America are living in a kind of fast-forward mode. Everything is centered on doing things faster, getting there faster, always rushing toward the next task. Funnily enough, people in a rush are also often late.
The American “fashionably late” concept is something that will never be a German custom. They find lateness rude and unnecessary. Needless to say, I learned this the hard way. As one who was always ten or fifteen minutes late for everything, I quickly learned that this was unacceptable in this country, and I’m glad I did. I hate waiting for people, so why make people wait for me? Still, although I have conquered punctuality, I can’t seem to achieve it without being in a hurry.
Even 4,000 miles away from the country in which I grew up, I can’t seem to rid my routine of this incessant need to rush, to cram everything I can into a day, or into an hour even. It seems as though I measure my success on how many things I can accomplish in one day.
The people I have met during my time in Munich seem to have noticed this. “It seems like you are always worrying about something. Do you ever truly relax?” they have said. And they’re right. I make to-do lists probably as often as I brush my teeth.
Not to say that Germans do not have goals to accomplish, they just accomplish them with an entirely different approach. The German couple I live with wakes up early in the morning, eats a nice breakfast together, reads the newspaper, and then heads off to work. In the morning, you can catch me scrambling out of bed, hastily getting ready for the day and then grabbing a granola bar as I dash out the door. It’s not even 9 a.m., and the way we have spent our morning differs greatly. Even on the commute to work, Germans use their time well. On my 50-minute train ride to work, I never seem to miss the sign onboard that reads “Endlich Zeit zum Lesen” (finally time to read). To me, this is just another way the German people really take advantage of the free time they are given, and it seems like they don’t waste one second. Similarly, when my host parents return home from work, they sit down for a dinner that almost always lasts longer than an hour, and then they relax by reading or watching their favorite television show, while I can usually be found in my room, sending E-mails or updating my blog.
It’s been said to me more than once here that Germans work hard, but they also play hard. While interning for Focus Magazin, it became apparent to me that while at work, Germans use their time to really work. They don’t dilly-dally on the Internet, they don’t take personal calls, they don’t chat incessantly to coworkers. And, they don’t bring their work home with them either. It seems as if they have figured out the ideal way to balance their professional life with their personal life, and this is an achievement I am eager to employ.
So many lessons have been learned during my time here that will stay with me forever. Even as I sit and write this article, I somehow cannot fathom how it is almost the end of my grant period, and that I will be leaving this wonderful country in one month. No matter how tightly one tries to hold on to something, the passing of time brings all things to an end. Yet if there is one overall lesson I have learned during my Fulbright year, it is to spend time like a German would: cherish every second of each opportunity, indulge in your free time and use your time wisely, not taking one moment for granted.
If I can’t bring all of Germany back with me, at least I can bring back a part of it within myself.
