Lesson #2: Don't be afraid to grunt, point, or ask.

One  of the - no, THE -  scariest thing about being in a foreign land is the difficulties in communication.  I felt all high and mighty after making some hotel arrangements through email entirely in German, creating this itinerary, jumping in to this blindly and things were actually turning out just fine...Then the little situation at the airport happened and I was shaken slightly, but only for a moment.  I started to get all snooty again though, thinking how smooth I was because I was traveling by mySELF, got to the station all by mySELF, bought my train ticket by mySELF...and then it came time to find the right train platform and I had to grunt out some basic German.  I was blushing.  I was embarassed.  I knew nothing but "excuse me", and pushed my ticket in the police officer's face.  He pointed the direction I should go, and then I made my way down the stairs and took a seat on a bench.  At least we hadn't had to have an actual conversation!  Phew, that was close!

I was early enough that even though I kept telling myself that I was probably not in the right place, I could study the signage and feel pretty sure.  The platform started to fill up with travelers and business people.  And then a woman approached me.  She started to speak.  I could make out that she was asking me if she was in the right place to go to Wiesbaden...a platform full of people and she asks me! I may have answered, "Ja, I think so."  She spoke some more.  At that point I think I squeaked out the ever impressive "Ich spreche nicht viel Deutsch," which never seems to convince anyone that you don't speak much of their language when you can manage that sentence with generally correct pronunciation.  I learned quickly that if you say anything in a foreign language, this is an invitation to say more at an even faster rate (though this is not lesson #2).

A Honduran woman, who, incidentally, had been sitting next to the woman who had asked for help, snagged me upon our arrival into the Wiesbaden train station.  She spoke really good English and actually asked me if I was staying at MotelOne (I was) and if I would like to walk there with  her.  A Moroccan man who worked at the train station had offered to help her make her way to the hotel, so she invited me along (as a buffer, perhaps?).  The fact that I had spoken in some English in Frankfurt made her feel comfortable enough to approach me.  I thanked her as she met her South American tour group in the lobby, checked in (in English, but only after asking of course), and unpacked. I had made it to my first hotel safely and without tragedy.

But then the dreaded dinner hour approached.  I was going to have to talk to people again. I went back to the train station - I had noticed a few restaurants, one of them being a Subway sandwich shop if all else failed, and chose a sandwich/bakery shop.  I had no idea what any of the sandwiches were except that one of them had cheese on it (a word I did know).  My turn came.  I pointed and muttered something like "diese bitte" (I think that means 'this one please') and a Coke (the same in German as in English).  Still a little embarrassed, but I had done it.

The next day was more of  the same, except then buying chocolate.  I didn't know the words, but I used the ones I did, which included 'uh' a lot while pointing and making hand gestures.  She didn't speak English but found someone who spoke a little.  It turned out that I successfully made a transaction!  There are kindergardeners who speak with more eloquence than what I managed, but I had done it! Buying train tickets for the next day, I asked the man standing behind me a for clarification, using one word sentences and pointing.  He just answered in English.  Buying pizza from the Italian-run pizzeria, the same.  A pretzel.  Bratwurst.  I spoke the German words for those (they are the same as the English ones), handed over my money and it was over.  If I didn't understand something said to me while ordering food, I would say yes or no and hope i liked the outcome.  The more I spoke though, the more confident I felt because I had the safety net of the German people's knowledge of my language.  Sure, there were people who didn't speak English.  Sure, there were plenty of times when I was asked a follow up question when ordering food and I didn't know what the
heck I had just been asked.  But here's the kicker - while German's are punctual to a fault, can come off a bit abruptly, and don't smile much, they sure are a helpful bunch!  They could tell I didn't understand and would say it again in English.  I didn't even have to ask.  And this helped me know what was coming the next time I was in the situation.  I started to remember more words - basic, yes, but more        
than before, and I wasn't as afraid to make a mistake.  The more words you know, the easier it is to string them together into an intelligent thought.  Slowly but surely,  I was moving toward that direction.  This led me to one of my favorite moments of my trip.

I stayed at a pension while in Munich.  There was a breakfast room down the hall, and each morning there was a woman who had to be at least in her 80's sitting at a table that had a 'reserved' sign on it.  I think she was the mother of the owner.  Anyway, we would say our good mornings to each other and eat in silence.  I watched out of the corner of my eye as she licked up every last drop of cream from the pitcher and butter from her plate, smacking her lips.  She had white hair, wore a polka-dotted kerchief around her neck and a navy blue dress.  I wanted to talk to her but was afraid.  How I wished I could know what she knew about this country and what she had seen of it during her lifetime!  But I was limited by language.  My last morning at breakfast, I awoke to a snowy Munich.  When she finished eating, she stood to look out the window, right next to me.  Knowing that this was my only chance, I took a deep breath and asked her if Munich usually had much snow:  "Haben Sie vielen Schnee in Munchen?"  No, not usually was her reply.  She said something else, which was too much and too fast for me to understand, but I had had a conversation...half of one, at least.  She departed with a "Gruss Gott," the most common greeting I hear during my trip (God's greetings), and shuffled out of the room.  I watched her go with a smile.  I had started my journey speaking only English, moved to grunts and points, mumbles, words, sentences, and finally a conversation.  My linguistic evolution was complete.