Author: Ryan

TexMexpatriats: Scoring an Apartment in Munich #3

Ryan’s Wednesday Afternoon, part 1 – Prep for the Appointment

It’s a sunny day amid a cluster of rainy ones, but that’s not even a little important. I have two hours to eat lunch, figure out how to make copies of documents, make those copies, put together a packet of the documents I copy, and then make my way to the apartment I’m viewing at 3pm.

The part that has me the most nervous is the part about finding out how to make copies. I haven’t seen a Kinko’s in two weeks. What on Earth does a German copy center look like? Do they exist? I’ll start by asking the front desk of our apartment complex. The lady there speaks perfect English, so that conversation will be easy.

“Hallo!” I say to her when I walk in. “Can I make copies in here?

“No, I’m sorry, we don’t have a copy machine.”

“Oh, okay. Where can I go to do that?”

“Ummm, I’m not really sure. The Internet Cafe across the plaza might have one.”

“Okay, danke shoen!”

“Bitte shoen!”

Now, I’m sprinting across the plaza. The Internet Cafe is a closet with three desktop PCs and a guy behind a desk.

“Hallo!” I say. “Haben sie ein…uh…copygerät?” I really hope that “copygerät” is a word.

Desk guy looks puzzled. He says some German stuff that I haven’t learned, yet. Crap, it’s probably not a word. “Danke!” I say and run out the door. Hopefully, he wasn’t offering me some free copies.

Papier

I spin around, examining the signs above the shops in the plaza. Kartoffelhaus–no. Discount Store–no. Thai Food–no. Papier–maybe? I run to Papier.

Papier is a larger closet than the Internet Cafe is. The doorway features some stationary, so I’m optimistic. I enter. The clerk is behind the counter helping a woman with some envelopes. The old woman isn’t a copy machine, so I don’t focus on her for too long. I scan the place until my eyes pass in front of the counter. There it is!

Once the clerk finishes helping the woman, I approach him.

“Hallo!” Learning a bit from my last encounter, I open this conversation differently. “Jetzt, ich spreche nicht so gut Deutsch.”

“Ah, ist okay,” he reassures me, but not exactly in a friendly way. Then, he says some B21 German things with an inquisitive face, so I get the message that he wants to know what I need.

“Ich suerche ein,” then I try it again “copygerät.”

“Ja, wir haben,” he says (or something like that). Maybe copygerät is a word? Or maybe he knows English.

Then I have to abandon German–I really can’t wait until we get to the “asking store clerks to help you” part of the class–and I ask “Can I make copies of these documents?”

“Ja, wie viele?” (Or something close to that).

“Drei, und drei, und drei…” I say as I show him my documents. I’m trying to say I need three of each.

“Okay.” And then he makes my copies before telling me how much and collecting his payment.

I’m done! I have my copies. Now, it’s bratwurst time. I’ll need all the energy I can get–it’s only about 20 minutes until I need to put those copies I just made to good use.

1German courses progress from A1, A2, B1…C2, where C2 is Twain-like command of the German language. I’m a quarter of the way through A1 right now.

TexMexpatriats: Scoring an Apartment in Munich #2

This is part 2 of the story of how Roxana and I found our new apartment in Munich. As you read, you may notice a Usain-Bolt-worthy coat of arrogance over the story’s substance. I imagine you’ll want a barf bag handy in case the eye rolling makes you dizzy.

Ryan’s Tuesday Afternoon

2:30 PM, I opened an e-mail from Roxana that says something like “OOOOOMG, you won’t believe the appointment we just got!” It would bring us to a room that’s only a few blocks away from the temp room we’re in, now. It’s in an amazingly central part of Munich.

I smiled and enjoyed a moment of excitement. A moment was all it was, though; I keep hearing about how hard it is to find a place in Munich. For instance, a friend estimates that she viewed 100 or so rooms before another friend finally pulled some strings with an agent to get her selected. Another friend is bunking at someone else’s place months after he started looking for a room of his own. Living in Munich is competitive.

******

5:30 PM, I arrived home from what amounted to a Metro tour of Munich with a new guitar amp. I plugged it in and started to play around. 15 minutes in, Roxana gets home and she’s pumped.

“Holaaaaaa, mi vidaaaaaaa!” Her mouth touched both of her ears and her eyes were buttons.

“Hola, corazon!”

After some small talk, we hit business. Since I’m from Texas, the idea of competing for apartments blows my mind, so I had questions. The appointment would take place the next day at 3pm, just down the street. I’ll need to make copies of a packet of info the agent will need to select us for the room–passports, employment contracts, insurance statements, bank statements, blah blah. He’ll need this document for that reason, this other one for that other reason, and he’ll probably want to see them in this order. He’ll probably ask this question, but just give him that answer. I should stay longer than everyone else (most appointments involve like, 20 other applicants) so that I can make small talk–and a good impression–with the agent. Oh, and Roxana has a meeting at work at 3pm, so I’ll have to go on my own.

Stress is fuel, and at this point I had enough to launch a continent into space. Let’s do this.

TexMexpatriats: Scoring an Apartment in Munich #1

This is part 1 of the story of how Roxana and I found our new apartment in Munich. As you read, you may notice a Usain-Bolt-worthy coat of arrogance over the story’s substance. I imagine you’ll want a barf bag handy in case the eye rolling makes you dizzy.

Roxana’s Tuesday Morning

Roxana woke up Tuesday morning in a frenzy. Not a normal, obvious frenzy, though. Her frenzies are quiet and internal–polite, even. During one of her frenzies, she blacks out in a hurricane of productivity. After a frenzy, she couldn’t tell you exactly what she did or how she got it done.

Anyway, this particular frenzy took her to work and drove her to apply for apartment viewings during her breaks and, of course, on the train to work. She thinks she applied to about 8 apartments, but reality could have that figure around 8 million. She also doesn’t remember to which apartments she sent applications. Frenzy.

The important and impressive thing about Roxana’s apartment search blackout is that it resulted in 3 invitations to view apartments–almost immediately. We would view one room on Wednesday, one on Thursday, and the third on Saturday. She nabbed the Wednesday invitation during the 10 or so minutes the apartment’s listing even existed. Wolfgang, the agent, called her about 3 hours after she applied for it on the train. Frenzy.

I wouldn’t truly know what all of these invitations meant for us until later that afternoon.

Post #7: Bavaria is the Texas of Germany

In Junior High, I had to learn a second language, and I had three choices in school: Spanish, French, and German. I’m pretty sure most Gen Y Americans can relate to that (I think iGen are learning Mandarin, too). As a Texan, Spanish was the practical choice. Mexico is our neighbor and a major inspiration for our culture. Not to mention, a Texan without a Mexican acquaintance is a person who never leaves the house.

In college, as my mind opened to other world cultures, I would affirm my choice in a different way. Germany (and bits of its neighbors) speak German, France (and Canada) speak French, while South America, Central America and Spain speak Spanish. Travel potential earns Spanish an extra 100 points.

Then, I met Roxana. 100 extra points for Spanish.

Now, I’m in Munich, and I’m about to give Spanish an extra 100 points. I am learning that people speak Spanish everywhere. For instance, in my heart of hearts, I feel like a ton of people in Munich speak Spanish natively. For the life of me, I can’t find the statistics to support it, but I don’t have the nerve to deny it, either. Let’s talk about my misadventures through statistics before I get into why I think so many Spanish speakers live here. That way, you’ll know how how supremely justified by science my perspective is.

First, I tried to find out how many people who live in Germany are Germans. According to the CIA’s World Factbook, that stat is right around 91%. Damn. That’s doesn’t verify my suspicion at all. Well, maybe many of the country’s immigrants come from Spanish-speaking nations. The same source says that 6.1% of Germany’s residents are non-Turkish and non-German, and then lists Spain as one of the six major “other” immigrant groups. No other Spanish-speaking nations are listed. Crap.

But, Germany’s a complex nation, right? The World Factbook, for instance, says that Roman Catholics are 34% of Germany, but a whopping 80% of Bayern, and my German teacher said to us that Munich is pretty much a complete mix of religions (those stats and vague informative summary zoom in from nation to state to city, for anyone unfamiliar with the country). So cities don’t necessarily represent states or the nation, here. Maybe Munich has an especially high Spanish-speaker population, even though Germany as a whole does not. Well, a 10-minute round of research didn’t reveal anything very telling, except that no Spanish-speaking nation is among the top 6 immigrant populations in Munich (Wikipedia). 22% of Munich residents are from other countries, and the top-6 nations make up about half of those people. That leaves a max of about 10% of Munich for the Spanish-speaking countries. Not much, unless they are all of the 10%.

So, Spanish speakers still don’t seem to be very numerous, here. But maybe every non-top-6 nation in Munich is a Spanish-speaking nation. That would put their numbers at about 10% of Munich residents, and I could finally say that Munich is full of Spanish speakers! Maybe I’ll find out that a lot of Germans learn Spanish as a kid, inspired by all of their Spanish-speaking neighbors. Maybe I can use Spanish education to infer a large Spanish-speaking population, like one can with the Texas population.

5% of Germans learn Spanish.

Thanks for nothing, Wikipedia. I still have my gut feeling that Munich is full of Spanish speakers, but I don’t have any data to reinforce it. Well, I do have something. I have met and spent solid time with about 17 people so far in Munich. Of those, 11 speak Spanish as their native language. And no, I did not meet all 11 through Roxana. That puts the makeup of my new friends in Munich at 65% hispanohablante. Wow, Munich is full of Spanish speakers!

This educational rant brought to you by: A Misguided Use of Statistics