Thankful to be Bilingual

Today I was watching TV ... I really don't do a lot of random TV watching, but I was just needing a mindless time waster.  For whatever reason, I stopped on an episode of Chopped Junior, a cooking competition for children.  In this episode, one child had an Egyptian father and another had an Italian mother.  Both children traveled to that parent's home land yearly ... and you could tell what an influence the broader spectrum of culture and knowledge had on these children.

Even though I was born in Germany and spent much of my childhood there while enjoying a typical American schooling and home life in the States as well, I never really thought of the amazing opportunity I had until just in the last few years ...

There are statistics out there about children who are raised bilingual.  While there are a few issues for some children who have two parents speaking two different languages, it mostly seems to work itself out in their brains as they get older to separate the languages.  The advantages usually outweigh the early issues.  Children exposed to two languages at a young age, like me, usually have no accent in either language.

Bilingual children are NOT smarter, they just have some advantages ... but don't despair, so do adults who learn a second language as an adult!

From The Cognitive Benefits of Being Bilingual:

Despite certain linguistic limitations that have been observed in bilinguals (e.g., increased naming difficulty7), bilingualism has been associated with improved metalinguistic awareness (the ability to recognize language as a system that can be manipulated and explored), as well as with better memory, visual-spatial skills, and even creativity.29 Furthermore, beyond these cognitive and neurological advantages, there are also valuable social benefits that come from being bilingual, among them the ability to explore a culture through its native tongue or talk to someone with whom you might otherwise never be able to communicate.

In my experience, being bilingual hasn't made me much more creative ... nor do I seem to have a better memory (fading fast every year!!), but that last sentence struck a chord!  I have had "the ability to explore a culture through its native tongue or talk to someone with whom you might otherwise never be able to communicate."

What a rich oral history I have stored up due to conversations with my German relatives, friends, and acquaintances - and even just American friends who have traveled in Europe.  Granted, every grandparent, in my opinion, is a treasure trove of time past ... when life was very different than it is now; but to know and understand another history and culture entirely in real life not just from a text book is a great privilege.  

How much I now treasure the fact that I know children's songs and nursery rhymes in both English and German ... have tasted so many diverse foods and learned to hold my cutlery in two different ways.  It is those little differences, I think, that I appreciate now, and I revert right back to what my Oma and Opa taught me the minute my plane lands in Frankfurt.  I gesture differently when I speak; I conduct myself differently when meeting a stranger; I count using my thumb to indicate the number 1 just as German children are taught to do.  It is those funny little things that make me German ... some I learned because my mom and grandparents instilled them in me, some I mimic their behavior.  

It is my bilingual-ness and the need to cherish and share those memories of my German side that inspired this blog.  I am so grateful for the gift of knowing two languages and cultures ... it is also what makes me yearn always to return to my "home" in Germany. 

German Childhood: Mornings

In just about 40 days, my 2 oldest children and I will be in GERMANY!  In anticipation of the trip, my mind is stirring up so many wonderful memories of my childhood summers in Germany, the years we lived there with the Army, and the trips since.  As I get older, the nostalgia for my grandparents grows stronger.  Sometimes I think I miss them more now than I ever have, just realizing how very much they did to ensure my time with them was the very best (and it was!). 

My youngest daughter is 9 years old right now.   While I started spending every summer with my grandparents when I was 7, it was more after 9 or 10 years old that I remember the details much more vividly.  What was a day like when I was 9 in Germany?

Well, I woke up wrapped in my comforter (feather beds for winter, a lighter insert for summer) and wandered down the hall to find my Oma, who was almost always in the kitchen.  She might be drinking coffee or doing a crossword puzzle, maybe prepping a few things for lunch time already. 

Proper Eierbecher (egg cups) - eierbecher.com

Sometimes she would go to the bakery and bring me soft, fresh Brötchen for my breakfast, or if she had done that the day before, she'd warm one up for me in the oven (aufbacken).  I preferred Nutella on my Brötchen - but sometimes also had real butter and Marmelade or honey.  Occasionally, I'd have a slice of my Oma's ever-present, favorite Streuselkuchen (crumb cake) instead.  Very occasoinally, I'd have a boiled egg, always served in an egg cup (Eierbecher - see above pic) 

source

Recipe for Brötchen:  The Kitchen Project

Source of picture & Recipe for Streuselkuchen:  Essen & Trinken

(German recipe with translation option)

On days where we had no plans, breakfast was a lingering affair.  There was a radio/cassette player on my Oma's little table in the kitchen where I sat.  I would listen to children's stories on tape:  Eine Kleine Nachtmusik, a children's opera by Mozart, or the silly adventures of Räuber Hotzenplotz (the robber named Hotzenplotz) based on stories written by Otfried Preussler.  As I grew older, my grandparents got me other tapes such as the stories of famous composers or folk music, children's songs, and fairy tales.  I listened to those tapes over and over and over again. 

And finally, it was time to get dressed and brush teeth and hair.  By then, my Opa was probably ready to take a walk to his garden, or sometimes we'd get the bicycles out from the cellar.  On the way, we'd pick dandelions to take as a treat for his rabbits.  Sometimes we'd ride our bikes by the nearby Nidda, a small tributary of the Main River.  And we'd probably be out until time to come home for lunch. 

But more about that another day ...

Happy Birthday: My Opa's Story

My Opa (my mother's father) was born on this day, April 23 in 1911.  I wish I could talk to him now - as the middle-aged adult that I am - and ask him about all the details that I want to know that never occurred to me as a child, when I spent over 2 months with him each summer.

I am thankful I have memories, and I am glad my mother can still share many things she knows and remembers about her father ... but I am still curious about him as a young man.  I know a few basics:  he was born near Frankfurt, Germany, the oldest of 7 children.

The earliest picture I have of my Opa is from his confirmation, which happened at age 13 or 14 in German Lutheran churches.  So I am guessing this photo is from 1924 or 25:

I don't know much about my Opa's formal schooling or any training.  From pictures of him and knowing the history of Germany from the time, I assume he joined the German National Work Service called Reichsarbeitsdienst (RAD).  Starting in 1935, it was mandatory for men ages 18 to 25 to serve at least 6 months in the RAD.  It was intended to instill an appreciation for hard work into the youth and to combat unemployment.  My Opa was stationed in Poland in 1936 because that is the date on the back of this picture of him (on the right) with a comrade.  

Here is where I don't know all the details ... I am assuming my Opa remained in the RAD because he always said he was on a labor force during the war - and I have this picture of him on his horse (Hansi) that is dated 1939/Poland:

The RAD played an important role in Hitler's plan to invade Poland.  These construction troops built roads, cleared obstacles, dug ditches, and created fortifications; they also kept the supplies running smoothly to the front lines.  They were not combat troops ... at least not until the very end months of the war in 1945 when some RAD units were trained for the infantry and as anti-tank units.  For most of the war, the RAD remained an independent, support force.  My Opa spent a short time as a prisoner of war, but again, all the details are somewhat uncertain as to the time line.

The female version of the RAD was called the RADwJ (Reichsarbeitsdienst weiblichen Jugend / National Work Service for Young Women).  I am assuming that is what my Oma was a part of in her home of East Prussia, and how she met my Opa.   The RADwJ provided support for farming communities with domestic help or teaching school initially before World War II.  After September 1939, it also became mandatory for young women between the ages 20-25 to service for at least 6 months; girls who served longer were then honored and paid as employees.  Eventually, these young ladies also began to fill the jobs the men had left behind at factories and ammunition plants as well as serving in hospitals, postal services, being conductresses on trains and public transport, and many other now-vacant positions.

Back to my Opa:  after the war, the family first had to find each other again - my Oma having fled her home in East Prussia from the Russians with her little boy (my uncle) in tow.  Finding jobs, housing, and making a life in war-ravaged Frankfurt was the next step.  Thankfully by the late 1950's, times were easier:

My Opa with my mother, ca Summer 1959

By the time I was born in the earliest of the 1970s, my Opa had retired medically due to a bad heart, but was still so very full of life and fun:

My Opa and grandmother from my father's side admiring me as a baby, Christmas 1970

As my often babysitter and later who I spent my summers with, my grandparents became a huge part of my childhood.  My Opa in particular enjoyed being outdoors and had a little "garden," which we could escape to, not far from their apartment.  We took long walks, rode bicycles, wandered through the near-by Taunus Mountains.  My Opa told me stories, read to me, and sang his favorite marching songs (probably military cadences).  

My Opa loved to travel, and most summers, he planned for us to go by train to at least one city or sight or relatives' home further away.  Occasionally, he'd come to the States and spend a few weeks with us as well.  

In the Summer of 1986, early July to be exact, my Oma, Opa, and I traveled to the city of Köln (Cologne) for a little getaway; we also had a friend to visit there.  After going to the famous cathedral in Köln, we headed to the train station to catch our train back to Frankfurt.  We ended up on the wrong train platform and had to hurry across the station to another to get the correct train.  On that platform, my Opa reached over to touch my Oma's arm and collapsed.  He had his third (and fatal) heart attack there on that train platform.  Medical personnel came to help immediately, of course, but he was never revived.  Sadly, my Opa passed away that day ... but I like to think he died while doing what he loved with people around him that he loved (and we loved him so very much).  I will never forget that day, and though that was almost 33 years ago, I still miss my Opa often and am thankful that I had 15 years to spend with him.  

Happy 108th Birthday, Opa!

PS You can read my Oma's Story by clicking HERE:  My Oma's Story

German Childhood: Oma's Apron

~~**~~

OMA'S APRON

My Oma (grandmother) was a true Hausfrau (housewife/homemaker).  Before World War II, she was trained to cook from scratch, and she took care of large families - to include her own 10 half-siblings, the last of whom was born just a year or so before her own first child.  Even when she worked outside the home later, she was a Putzfrau (cleaning lady) for businesses.  For this reason, and because it was the norm for many of the women of her generation, she wore an apron almost every day while doing her housework.  

Schürze = apron

My Oma loved her little kitchen - and for that reason, so did I!  

In between doing her work, my Oma sat in her chair at the kitchen table, enjoying her coffee, doing crossword puzzles, balancing her household accounts, or writing in her daily calendar/diary.

Looking at these pictures of my Oma with her various aprons, I vividly remember the patterns and colors.  I still own one of her practical, cotton aprons!

Oma's apron pockets usually held a tissue and were handy for filling with clothes pins when it was wash day.  My Oma never had a dryer.  Her small washing machine was in the kitchen; clothes were hung to dry outside in the summer and in the attic of the apartment building in the winter or on a rainy day.

Of course, if she went outside the house, the apron always came off!  I think my Oma was so beautiful.  I always admired her so much.

Every day, after lingering over a cup of coffee and maybe some buttered bread for breakfast, she always got completely dressed to include her stockings, girdle/garter, and then fixed her hair.  My Oma almost always wore a skirt and blouse or a dress.  And of course, she then tied on her apron!

source

Here's a Christmas gift idea -

How to sew an apron:

youtube video is AUF DEUTSCH

A German Childhood: My Oma's Story

My Oma was born in 1918 in Gross Lattana, East Prussia, located along the southeastern Baltic coast.  Her village/town was called Peitschendorf, and now it is called Piecki as this area is part of Poland today.  It was in the Masurian lake district - known for its 2,000 lakes.  

map source

A QUICK HISTORY LESSON:

Prussia's history is complicated - it was a providence of the German Empire after 1871; after 1918, at the end of World War I, the territory became an enclave (separated from the mainland) of the new German Republic.  Between the end of 1944 and 1945, East Prussia was part of air assaults and offensives by the British army as well as invasion and siege (and atrocities) by the Russian Red Army.  Many ethnic German Prussians fled - to include my Oma (at this point, married with a child, my uncle who was born in 1943) and her family, which included many of her younger siblings.  

Refugees who tried to return to East Prussia were prevented, and many of those remaining were expelled by its new Communist regime.  Labor camps were established; orphans from the who were left behind in this Communist zone were called "Wolf Children" and are a whole sad story unto themselves.  My Oma eventually made it to Frankfurt, where my Opa's family was from, and her family eventually also came over to the West after living in Eastern Germany for a short time.

The East Prussia my Oma lived in 1923 -1939

source

Following Nazi Germany's defeat in World War II in 1945, East Prussia was partitioned between Poland and the Soviet Union according to the Potsdam Conference. Southern East Prussia was placed under Polish administration, while northern East Prussia was divided between the Soviet republics of Russia (the Kaliningrad Oblast) and Lithuania (the constituent counties of the Klaipėda Region). The city of Königsberg was renamed Kaliningrad in 1946. Most of the German population of the province had left during the evacuation at the end of the war, but several hundreds of thousands died during the years 1944–46 and the remainder were subsequently expelled.  (source)

But back to my Oma's childhood:  from her stories, it was pleasant in that the area she grew up in was beautiful, wooded land with lush forests and fertile farms.  Her father was a stern man, a constable of the town.  Her mother, sadly, died when my Oma was almost 7 years old of tuberculosis despite efforts to send her to a sanatorium for treatment.  

This picture below is interesting - it was taken in 1921 or 1922:

The little girl in the picture ^ is my Oma:  Hildegard Anna; she was born in 1918.

Her father is beside her (Gustav, 1881 - 1968).   Seated is my great-grandmother (Ur-Grossmutter); her name was Anna (my daughter is named after her and my Oma); she lived from 1896 until 1925.  Anna's sister Wilhelmine stands behind her - and she became my Oma's step-mother later.  

ANYWAY ... back to my childhood:

My mother and I moved to the United States (Maryland - then Virginia) with my dad (an Army soldier) in 1974, right before I turned 4 years old.  My Oma and Opa came to visit in 1975.  Airplane travel was quite an adventure back in those days, and it was a brave endeavor for them to come with their limited English with the additional challenge of getting stuck overnight at the airport in New York City.  The above 2 pictures are from this visit.  

Starting in 1977, I traveled to Germany yearly, each summer after school was out, to spend about 2 1/2 months with my grandparents and other German relatives.  Because my grandparents lived in the city of Frankfurt in an apartment, they rented a small garden, as many city dwellers did, to grow a few plants, enjoy some green space, and in my grandparents' case have a little hut for parties and family to hang out.  This is where we came almost daily during the summers because our garden also had rabbits to feed and cages to clean.  (click on the link to see an aerial view of the gardens now - ours was the plot closest to the railroad tracks.  Today it has no grass, as the owner uses it for chickens; however, when we rented it, the surface was grass.)

VOCAB TIDBIT:

Our garden was part of a rabbit breeding club - a Kanninchenzuchtverein.  How's that for a nice, long word!!?  Let's break it down:  Kanninchen = rabbit, Zucht = breeding, Verein = club

We showed our rabbits each year, and they were judged, kind of like the Kennel Club's dog show you might be familiar with.  

Kanninchen = rabbit; schau = show

So it was at this little garden that I spent many happy hours playing - on my swing, in my playhouse, in the hut, and with other children whose families were a part of the club.

Me & my Oma - ca. 1977 or '78.

Is it crazy that I remember those flip flops that I have on?  They straps were made of velvet and the foot bed was straw, kind of like these:  

source

But better than the memory of my awesome shoes is the memory of having fun with my Oma!

You can also ready my Opa's Story:  here

A German Childhood: The Beginning / Der Anfang

This is my story ...

I was born in Frankfurt, Germany in the earliest of the 1970's.  My birth occurred in late November, and from what my mother tells, it was cold and wet and dreary; but this is when I first met some people who would mean the very most to me - the memories of these people I never want to forget!  They are people I wish my children could have known, but I have many stories to share, some of which I will record here.

a peek into my carriage (Kinderwagen) - 1971

Of course, my parents were - are - very important in my life.  I am so thankful for OUR story, especially the journey my mother and I would make through our lives and to this day... but outside of my parents, my grandparents, particularly my mother's parents - whom I called Oma and Opa - would influence my childhood and give me a rich heritage and sense of being loved that I carry deep down in my heart.  Even writing about them now makes me kind of teary ... I still miss them even though many, many years have gone by since they left this earth.

On my very first Christmas, I wasn't even a month old yet.  The picture below is of my father's mother, holding me.  Her name was Klara; she had an interesting yet somewhat tragic and hard life.  Her husband died in Russia in World War II (I think it was in 1942).  She raised my father and his sister while managing a small grocery store.  I don't know much else about her actually - apparently, she had a very bad temper as a younger woman;  but you'd never know that from this picture as she tenderly holds her granddaughter.  Klara died in 1974, just a few years after this picture was taken.

Also in the picture above is my Opa; this is my mother's father.  His name was Wilhelm.  My Opa was born in or near Frankfurt, the oldest child with 1 brother and 5 sisters:  Paul, Elisabeth, Maria (Ria), Johanna (Hanni), Helene (Leni), and Margot.  He was a soldier in World War II and later many things to include a streetcar conductor, but ultimately, he worked in civil service for the post office.  He was also my biggest fan!

Because my mother had to go to work, my grandparents babysat me every week day.  My Oma liked to tell the story of how she told my mother she promised to have very little to do with child-rearing of the new baby ... until the day I was born - and then my grandparents were an active part of my life, practically daily!  My Opa in particular just knew how to be fun - and he was so patient with me.  He sang to me, read me stories, and watched me play.  Later, he built me a swing, a play house, and set up monkey bars for me to climb.  

I am not sure if I realized how very good I had it when I was when I was little ... to be so carefree and to be the center of some one's world.  I do know there was a wonderful security in that feeling, whether it is conscious or not; I never doubted that I was very loved. 

Of course, my Oma - my mother's mother - was very special as well.  And I will share more stories about her as time goes on ...

New Year's Eve - 1973

My Oma & I prepare for the new year *1974*

So, this is my beginning ... and there is so much more to tell ...