What I Learned in Germany

My first trip abroad was with my son David. He was only 13, with no memories of World War II and no preconceived ideas of what to expect. I discovered a Germany that was not at all as I imagined it. Germany is a democracy, the leading economy in Europe, conquering through trade.

The cities, with modern buildings, look as if never bombed; Germans forget the war we fought against them. A woman, a small child during World War II, said to me, “My mother told me that when the American soldiers came, they would eat little children. Then they rolled into our village in their tanks and turned out to be these big Teddy Bears who gave me chocolate.”

I thought about this yesterday when Al, sitting across the table from me at lunch, said, “I went around the World three times before I was 19. I have no desire to go back to any of those places.”

I said, “I’ve learned something every place I’ve gone.”

Al hates everyone who is not white. He scorns all Asians, even if they are not “Japs”. Al brags that when he was in the Merchant Marine, any black or homosexual who dared to join the crew went overboard during the first storm. Our black waitresses listen politely to his tirades.

We are all products of our backgrounds. Growing up in Texas, I took it for granted that Yankees were horrible people that burned down people’s houses. I loved Robert and Edna, the black folks who worked for my grandmother. I used the “N” word without knowing it was an insult. Of course white people were superior to all other races. As for religion, the Baptist Church was the only true way of believing; all others – especially Catholics – were going to Hell. .

Why did I change? Daddy said to me, “I’m sorry we let you go to college because you left the church you were brought up in.” In college I studied journalism. I learned to think critically and to look for “the story behind the story.” Even facts can be misleading. I realized that many of the ideas I was taught to “believe” as a child were wrong.

Then I married Wally and went to Chicago. I was thrown into a totally different culture. For my grandmother the only way to stuff a turkey was with cornbread “dressing”. My mother-in-law never made cornbread; she stuffed her turkey with prunes and apples. It was different, but that was okay.

Chicago is a multi-ethnic city with Italians, Jews, and more Poles than Warsaw. My friends were Catholics and Lutherans, all wonderful people. No one was kinder and sweeter than my Mormon sister-in-law. I discovered that people with different ways of thinking are also good U.S. citizens.

Later I traveled. I found that, yes, people in other countries have different ways of cooking and eating, but that is not important. All people want jobs to support their families. They want to feel safe in their homes. They want to enjoy life. And most Europeans do just that.

Europeans come to the U.S. to shop, to buy jeans and tee shirts, but they don’t want to live here. I have friends and have visited in homes in England, France, the Netherlands, Norway, and Germany.

Let’s face it. Europeans have a more satisfying way of life than most Americans. They work fewer hours and have five or six weeks of vacation every year. We hear propaganda about the dangers of “socialized medicine”, yet Europeans spend less on medical care and have better health care systems than we do. They have democratic governments; a higher percentage of Europeans vote than do Americans.

I am an American. I don’t want to live in any other country. But we can learn a lot if we open our eyes, ears, and minds.

I wish I could return to New Mexico or live in Southern California with its great climate and my grandchildren, but if wishes brought Mercedes, we’d all be riding in German cars.