Big Store Paralysis

We've just come home from a late afternoon shopping trip. It's a Wednesday, so not a huge crowd day. First stop was the Toyota dealer in Heilbronn to test drive a Prius. Contrary to our Utah community, the German auto scene (especially in this more small town/rural location) is almost devoid of hybrids. You spot a lot of Audis, BMWs, Mercedes, and VWs, sprinkled with a few Toyotas, Opels, Peugeots, and Fords. You even see a fair number of Smart Cars, but I have yet to see a Prius out and about. Still, we happen to believe in the car's reliability based on positive reports from so many of our friends.

The big question for us was about the feel of the Prius on the Autobahn. Would we feel we had the power to maneuver and respond to the Autobahn's fluctuating speed demands? (If you've never driven on the German Autobahn, the main thing to know is that there are stretches that have no speed limit. None. Depending on your wheels and nerves, you can go as fast as you like. One big difference from US highways is that it is illegal to pass on the right (which I actually think is discouraged in the US, too, although you'd never know it from driver behavior). Thus, you stick to the lane that works best for you. Far right: trucks, exiting vehicles, and anyone willing to hang out at about 100-120 kilometers/hour. Middle: those passing the folks in the far right lane and hanging out at about 140-160 kilometers/hour. Far left lane: vehicles that approach like viciously determined bees. I have no idea how fast they might be going. 200 kilometers per hour is a good possibility. You don't "hang out" in the far right lane.)

So, how did the Prius do? Just fine. Compared with the Mercedes A-Klasse (our current rental car), it felt roomy, and the driver/car relationship felt natural to me. On the highway, I took it up to about 140 kilometers/hour. It has a bit of a guttural hum at that speed, but no sign of weakness. Markus also took a turn, and he may have gone up to a slightly higher speed. During our 41 kilometer test drive, we had an average gasoline usage of 5.2 liters per 100 kilometers (that's about 45 miles per gallon, according to a pretty cool calculator I found on the web).

Now we have to figure out what we want to do, as far as buying a car goes. We have some funds, having just sold two cars and a house in the US, but all of it is in dollars. Today's exchange rate of $1.4048 to the Euro is the lowest in the two months I've been here. Not exactly a good time to make large purchases here with dollars. And then there's the look and feel of the car. And three family members with opinions.

From the Toyota dealer we went to the pet store, where we had the chance to drop a quick 95 Euros on cat food, cat litter, and liner bags for the "litter locker." Sheesh.

After that, we headed to Media Markt, which is sort of a Best Buy, although I think the merchandise is even more bewilderingly displayed at Media Markt. We are in need of just about everything that plugs into a wall. We left our appliances behind in the States, with the exception of computers, printers, and cell phones. Everything else is market-specific, tailored to the 120 volts (alternating current), 50 hertz of the US electrical supply. (Germany uses 240 volts (direct current) at 60 hertz. You can convert power to change the volts, but you can't do anything about the hertz.) Good-bye microwave, blender, mixer, purée stick, food processor, toaster oven, vacuum cleaner, ice cream maker, waffle iron, griddle. I consoled myself with the knowledge that I had owned most of these tools for at least 15 years. Maybe it was time for new ones anyway.

So far, we have made the following new acquisitions for our German home: a washing machine (Bauknecht), a vacuum cleaner (Miele), and a steam iron (Tefal). Today's mission was to look into a mixer, purée stick, toaster (oven), and microwave. Only we ended up in the multi-level Media Markt, where, even if you don't want to, you can see 30 curling irons affixed to a shelf opposite 50 electric razors. The mixer aisle boasts more than a dozen options. What to choose? They all seem either large and heavy or obviously cheap and a little flimsy. Starting price around $45 for a reasonable mixer. Maybe it's the price that gives me pause: if it's going to cost something, I need to be sure it's a reasonable choice. And everything felt so clunky compared with the appliances I've recently left behind. Not sure I want any of them.

It doesn't take long for me to enter Big Store Hypnosis--soon, I can barely see, and it becomes impossible to keep the different products straight, let alone develop the sort of intimacy that can lead to actual purchase. Before long, I've reached Big Store Paralysis. My headache and I need to leave the building and its merciless light, avoiding eye contact with thousands of products that leer at me from the shelves as I seek the exit.

Large supermarkets have a similar effect on me. Let's not even talk about warehouse stores. I guess I'm the small retailer's demographic. I'm hoping there are enough of us out there to keep a few of these businesses alive. Meanwhile, I guess I'm saving electricity in my home life. If it isn't here, I can't turn it on. For now, that'll have to do.

Unceremonious Beginnings

I have been waiting . . . for what? For a desk to be clear and a light to shine so that I can sit down and begin a chronicle of this new phase of my life. I'm calling it Chapter This. (It isn't easy to find a blog name that hasn't already been taken.)

But the desk is not (yet) clear, and shining lights remain elusive.

My daughter, Miriam, and I arrived in Germany on Wednesday, August 25, 2010. We joined Markus, who had been in (and out) of our new German home since late July. A forty-foot container filled with our material possessions left Salt Lake City, Utah on July 28th to travel from Oakland, California via the Panama Canal to Bremerhaven in northern Germany (this link opens a world map that shows shipping densities, and you can imagine the route if you locate deep red area in the middle of the California coast, look for Panama, and find another deep red area east of the UK). Estimated arrival in Bremerhaven: September 6th.

It's not that I haven't blogged from the midst of chaos before. I have. Back before we even said "blog." In December 2001, Markus and I began Simon's Place, the website that helped us communicate about the illness and eventual death of our son (and Miriam's older brother), Simon. Hospitals. Medical procedures with a four year old (then five year old, six year old). A cross country move from Ann Arbor, Michigan to Salt Lake City. End of life care for a seven year old. Devastating loss. Grief. Looking for new footholds, tiny handholds. Six years have passed since Simon died. He would be an 8th grader now.

Miriam, who turned 11 last week, has started 5th grade at Justinus-Kerner-Gymnasium in Heilbronn. After 7 years on the faculty of the David Eccles School of Business at the University of Utah, Markus took a position at the German Graduate School of Management and Law (GGS), where he is Professor of Strategic Management and Leadership. So far so good in their new endeavors.

I have left a job at the Salt Lake Arts Academy (grades 5-8), where I taught German, choir, and creative writing. Here in Germany I am going to build my writing life. Perhaps I'll find my way back into teaching. For now, I'm butting heads with Miriam, who doesn't really want to learn German from her mother. But I happen to be a pretty good German teacher . . .

And so I need my writing desk. We're getting closer. Our container took another week in transit from Bremerhaven down here to Flein, just south of Heilbronn. It arrived on Monday, September 13. Try fitting the contents of a 2500 square foot house (plus full storage basement and garage) into a 1600 square foot apartment. We discarded like crazy before leaving Utah but brought the bulk of our household here (nothing in storage stateside). As our mover said, more than once, we have a lot of books.

Markus, my live-in electrical engineer, spent the last two weeks preparing for and teaching a 5-day intensive course. He basically disappeared into work right about the time the container arrived. So, it's been two weeks of me unpacking (with help from some kind souls) in a half-lit apartment. Now that Markus is back putting time in at home, lights and switches are going in everywhere, and pretty soon I'll have a working office.

Meanwhile, I am off tomorrow (Thursday) for a day of bringing in the grapes. Flein is in wine country. I've managed to volunteer myself onto a team of folks who enjoy helping a local wine grower with tending and harvesting the crop. Last week, we cut a red grape called Acolon. I'll be back to tell about what happens tomorrow.