Six Months – Lessons Learned
This is a recap post with some honest assessments, and rather dreary. Reader beware.
In late January, I hopped a plane from Madison, via Chicago, to Frankfurt. I carried with me two checked bags, a carry on, and my ukulele. This amounted to my worldly possessions (discounting the dozens of boxes stored in my parents’ basement). The plan: to shake things up, to break the routine.
I had been stuck in ruts in the past, spinning my wheels in a quagmire of over-familiarity. I left the Chicagoland in 2012 acknowledging that each month, week, and year was becoming arguably predictable. Life was comfortable; all I needed was to marry and start producing offspring. As I had realized this, I started to put out feelers for new opportunities and found myself in San Francisco, a city in which I had never dreamed of living.
San Francisco had never really felt like my home in the four years I lived there. And when work started to become never-ending battles with untrustworthy leadership, I knew it was time for another shakeup. And there would always be another insurance job. But seeing clearly successful professionals literally counting the years until they could retire, I knew I needed a different path.
Having enjoyed cheesemaking for the past four years and my then-recent education in brewing from a dedicated friend, I decided to see where this cheese/beer road may lead. So, I quit my job, moved my stuff to my parents’ basement, and flew to Germany.
I decided to create my own profession, Fermentician (a witty combination of Fermentation Statistician). But despite this new uncertainty, there have been some successes (and challenges) in the first six months of my new life.
The Arrival
The journey to and my arrival in Tambach-Dietharz was uneventful as this my sixth trip. However, this trip was different in that I had no return flight. In fact, I had expected that to be an issue when I went through passport control, but the officer was only interested if I were staying in the Frankfurt area.
Within a month, I had already landed my first practicum at the local bakery. And I had already started my discussions with the local Foreigner’s Office to get my visa. Despite needing to feed a wood stove first thing every morning in order to keep warm, things were definitely looking good.
Shortly thereafter is when the veil of vacation was lifted from this journey. In my previous visits, there was always an end date – usually three weeks – where I would then return to a life of work. I came, I experienced, and I headed back to a place of employment where I was ‘needed.’ This was no longer the case.
In March, the excitement had worn off. And while I was busy with personal projects, the number of interactions I had with others seriously dropped off. Unfortunately, this was the beginning of a very difficult three-month period. I developed a strong feeling that I was not needed, which is a very dangerous thought.
Generally, I try to write these adventure posts with only the positive experiences for sharing; however, for any interested person reading this who is looking to make a similar leap (which I would still highly, highly recommend), it is important to note some of the possible difficulties.
At this time I was only working Saturdays at the bakery and was traveling Thursdays to Erfurt for tap class. While I was offering up my help to anyone who would listen, I was rarely taken up on it. When I asked a newly acquired German friend why he thought that I had trouble helping people out, he responded that they may feel like they would owe me something or implying that they were not capable doing it alone.
“My head was telling me that I was in the wrong place; my gut still saying that this is where I am supposed to be.”It was around May that I started waking up each morning questioning what I was doing here. My head was telling me that I was in the wrong place; my gut still saying that this is where I am supposed to be. Running through a variety of solutions, I had two revelations: one, I realized that if I were to move back, I would be asking myself the exact same question, simply in a different country; and two, perhaps living in a remote small village was the difficulty.
In mid-April, I finally got the green light from the German Government to stay longer than a three-month tourist visa allows; I was granted a National Visa. As I had described my desire to learn all of the secrets of fermentation from local trades people, my visa actually states that specifically, “nur zur Hospitation in verschiedenen deutschen Handwerksbetrieben gültig.” And that continues to be my purpose here.
The Practicums
I have been extremely lucky with the practicums that I have found. The bakery is hard work; and with starting times of 2:30 AM (and recently, 1:30 AM), being a baker is exhausting. During my time as a baker, I have observed much about personalities and interactions that I have never seen in a large firm; in my head I hear, “that’s an HR red flag; that’s an HR red flag.”
The baker made a joke in March about “strip dancing” as it sounds similar to the German word for “tap dancing” (tr. Stepptanz). He now repeats this every week. He then follows this up by asking me if I have licked any female genitalia recently. There is a calendar on the wall featuring nude women. And finally, I am always asked about any plans to “make boom boom” in the next couple days. The ladies working there shrug it off; I am simply there to observe.
I am tasked with menial tasks through terse orders: lifting heavy bins, fetching a coffee mug for someone, or carrying trays to the shop. None of this is beneath me; I do it all because I am there to learn. However, I am concerned that I have not yet been shown how to make dough, though I have often asked. I do now appreciate the process post-dough creation – look and feel, and some best practices.
I have concluded that it would be best if I find another bakery. When I informed the bakery that I was moving on at the end of July when I move to Erfurt, I was given quite the guilt trip: “What are we supposed to do now? And after all that we’ve done to make you feel welcome!” I responded that I was very thankful, to which was parroted in a sarcastic, high-pitched voice, “I am very thankful.” Exeunt.
The experience working as a butcher has also been eye-opening. I knew going into this apprenticeship that I would not be learning about the fermented sausages as this guy did not make them. Know that one could argue that Knackwurst is fermented as it is aged without refrigeration, but it is not on the same level as Salami, Summer Sausage, and Pepperoni.
“I am now a master sausage-link-maker.”Regardless, I am learning a lot about different pig parts and sanitation techniques. I am seeing how various tools are used, and how ground meat should look and feel, as well as discovering various ways I can cut myself with sharp knives. I am now a master sausage-link-maker; I have twirled thousands of bratwurst.
This new cast of characters is led by a perpetually grumpy butcher. He, however, can be extremely kind and patient when I ask questions, so I try to do that as much as possible. But when he throws a tantrum because something was not done to his liking, I quickly leave the room as I am overcome with a strong desire to shake him. No, this is not a figurative statement; I do have to leave the room and wait for it to subside. We always resume as if nothing happened.
Similar to the mistake I made working with the baker, I have tried greeting the workers at the butcher shop with, “today is going to be another beautiful day”. Note that I have learned that this makes no impact on someone who is perpetually grumpy.
I possibly have another set of baker and butcher options available to me in the fall, but am looking forward to the opportunities ahead to work as a brewer and cheesemaker. No plans have yet materialized, but I do have some irons in the fire. I do already know, however, that my original plan to stay in Europe for one year will surprisingly not be sufficient; the adventure will continue!
The Move
After an unnecessarily confounding search process, I have finally found an apartment in Erfurt. Finally my gut and my head are in agreement that this is where I am supposed to be. I have not even moved there, yet, and it already feels like Erfurt is my home. With easy access to my butcher internship, to Berlin in order to see touring productions, to tap class and choir in the city, and to additional practicum opportunities, I am seriously looking forward to this change.
Erfurt, the capital of Thuringia, has a population of approximately 200,000, which is a bit smaller than Madison, WI. Erfurt does not have the size of the Chicagoland, nor the cultural opportunities of San Francisco, but it does have history and some great people.
The new apartment will have a stove top and oven, so I can start putting my to-be-learned bread making skills to use. Additionally, I am really looking forward to making some cheese and beer again, which has been figuratively on the back burner while living in the bungalow. In fact, the “milk tank station” is a short bike ride away from the apartment (I now just need to find a bike). And if that fails, I did manage to get my driver’s license in the case I want to rent a car for the day.
I am now also fluent in German-style paperwork. I am able to produce many pages of documentation, whether useful or not, quite quickly and efficiently. But after the apartment, the visa, and the driver’s license, I do not know how I will put this new-found skill to use. Although, I am sure additional applications are in my future.
The Next Steps
Having survived my first six months of this new journey, I am grateful for all of these experiences. Truly grateful. Life definitely used to be more comfortable and much easier. I had a job, a place to be, people that needed my input (or at least asked), and reliable cash flow. Predictability was a comfort. However, in no way do I regret leaving that all behind.
“Those who have had the chance to live well and then have the chance to live a more meager lifestyle… learn a great deal about themselves in a short period of time.”I am now budgeting more than I have ever done in my life; in fact, I am currently saving up for some new shoes. My ability to stay in Germany is partially dependent on my savings account balance, so I focus on ensuring that I live well within my means. A friend of mine wrote to me: “I’ve observed that for those who have had the chance to live well and then have the chance to live a more meager lifestyle, those individuals learn a great deal about themselves in a short period of time.”
That said, I do miss good wine.
When I had moved to Germany, I had poetically waxed that that was the beginning of a new chapter in my life. I had undertaken a major change in my life by leaving the corporate workforce where I had always assumed I would spend my life. I packed up and decided to pursue an interest, a hobby. I still have no idea where this path my lead. I worry about it.
But with the move to Erfurt, I end Chapter 8. This was an exciting chapter of self-discovery and questioning what the “norm” is; if fact, I am still trying to learn if there actually is a norm given the amazing characters I am meeting. Unfortunately, these months were also an existential struggle: deciding whether to quit, defining what failure looked like, and determining if any of it actually mattered.
With that, the next chapter of my journey begins.
I hope your newest experiences are all you have been hoping.
Phew, “experiences”is a heavy word. The knowledge and know-how, for which I have made the journey, have been amazing and beyond expectations. The other “experiences”…