Things my students say: He said, she said.

We were discussing basic interview questions in class and then did a little role play after to check the language.

Me: Do you communicate well?
Student: (smiles broadly) I'm a man.
Me: So, I'll take that as a no?
Student: Well, OK, at my job, yes. In my personal life, ask my wife. Probably no.

He gets it.

Awkward Situations: Is breakfast included?

Eros- the God of love. Also known as Cupid. Believed by many to be the son of Aphrodite. "He smites maids' breasts with unknown heat, and bids the very gods to leave heaven and dwell on earth in borrowed forms." --Senceca, Phaedra





Schwarzarbeit- Literally translated it means "black work" as in under the table and off the books. It's what we see illegal immigrants doing.




You might be asking yourself, what do these two things have in common? Well you've come to the right place. And if you're wondering, no, it doesn't involve prostitution. Well, at least not me being a prostitute, just an unsuspecting madame. Something I never really assumed I'd be doing in my life.

In class the other day we were talking about interviews and resumes and I feel in some ways if someone ever asked me if I've ever been part of a start up business, then well, technically, I could probably say yes.

When I first moved to Saarbrücken, I had an apartment set up. I arrived August 4th and could move in on the 6th, so I decided to stay in a hotel for two days. I didn't have that much money, so I stayed in the cheapest hotel I could find at the time. It wasn't super shady, just a small hotel near the train station and I was only going to be there for 2 days.

When I arrived on the first day, I got a message from the people who's apartment I was moving into and they said, "Sorry! Our old roommate decided to stay so......"

....so basically, I didn't have a place to stay. At first, I thought, oh my God, I'm homeless, but I didn't dwell on it too long and immediately started the search for another apartment. The guy who ran the hotel was actually the son of the owner and he was probably in his 20s. I was explaining my dilemma, and he said, well if you want, I want to learn English. So how about you teach me English for two hours every day and I'll let you stay here for free. I figured, um OK.

Sloth! Rocky Road.

Staying there for a week and talking to the owner I also got to know some of the people who worked there. The people who worked there were, bless their hearts, special. One of the ladies who worked in the kitchen I can only describe as a 400lb chain smoking version of Sloth from The Goonies. Let's just say there's a reason she stayed in the kitchen. There was the guy who fixed broken stuff around the hotel, the maid, and another man. To this day I'm still not sure what his job was. The only person who didn't creep me out was the young Romanian girl who served the breakfast.


So despite the people there being a bit creepy, at least according to my white, middle class, rather sheltered upbringing, after about a week I finally found another place to live and decided to move into it ASAP.

Story of my life.

It was around this time I was supposed to start my training for my job. The training was supposed to take place in Stuttgart for two weeks and as soon as it was done I could start working and earning money in September. I moved my stuff into my new place and went to meet with my supervisor who informed me that apparently the training was full and I'd have to wait until the training in mid September, therefore, technically, I wouldn't start working and earning money until October. So now I had a month to do nothing but spend money...financially, I had not counted on that.

Well, I had maintained contact with the owner of the hotel and was still giving him English lessons. I mentioned my predicament. He said that the girl who served breakfast was going on vacation for two weeks and he needed help. If I wanted, he would let me serve the breakfast and work the front desk and he'd pay me. Not a lot, but something. I figured why not, it'd be an adventure, and frankly didn't have much of a choice.

The next week I started. Serving the breakfast was fine. I just had to boil some eggs, set out some meat, make coffee and tea. Easy stuff. What I was afraid of was working the front desk. I had no idea what I was doing and didn't have much guidance, but I consider myself to be a quick learner and got the hang of it after about a day. Again, it was a small hotel, with obviously questionable business practices, but whatever.

One night in the middle of the first week, when I was working the front desk, a man came in with a woman. He wanted a room. I said no problem. Then I asked if he would like breakfast in the morning. He looked at me funny and was like, "Um no. We'll only be here a few hours". I looked at the woman. She smiled and shrugged. Honestly, remember I was sheltered, it took me a second to figure out the meaning behind it. Are they just there to take a nap? Suddenly, one of the other guys who repaired things around the hotel appeared rather quickly and greeted the man and offered him drinks. The man declined and I gave them their key.

The man who worked there told me it was possible others would come and just charge them full price for the room and offer them beverages. Make a note of the rooms so the sheets could be changed right away.

OH.

Sure enough, as the week on, usually in the mid afternoons, men would come with women. One afternoon this man showed up with two women.  He asked for a room. I asked if he wanted a double or single. His reply, "Doesn't matter as long as it has a desk."

I said, "Alrighty. All rooms have a desk. They aren't very stable though..."

After those two weeks were over I didn't really have contact with the hotel anymore. I would like to mention there were also many regular people who stayed at the hotel. Usually, people on bike tours and older couples stayed there. But interestingly, or maybe fittingly, since last year, it is no longer a hotel, but a bright neon light flashing Eros Center.

So, in some ways I can say my first job in Saarbrücken was working at an underground brothel. Check that one off the list.

Things my students say: Two are better than one.

In the lesson we were discussing different types of appliances and devices and also practicing relative clauses with 'that' or 'which'. The object was to think of an appliance or device and describe it without telling the group what it is, then people would guess. For example, it's an appliance that keeps your food cold. Answer: Fridge. Or refrigerator.

Student: I have one in my living room and my bedroom. It's a device that turns someone on.
Me:....giggle, giggle. Alright.
2nd Student: In your living room and bedroom?
Student: Yes. I have two. *big smile. A device that turns something on.
Me: Oh. Turns something on, or turns someone on?
Student: Mmm...turns something on.

No one guessed it. It was a remote control. When she first said it turns someone on and that she had two of them, I thought, well, you go girl.No shame.

Things my students say: You have something socialist on your face...no, the other side.

My student and I were chatting today about names. Unlike in America, in Germany, there are rules. You can't just name your child anything and hope they aren't permanently scarred by it. I mean, somebody named their child Hashtag. Seriously. #crazybabynames. In Germany the name has to be approved by the Standesamt, and basically, the name has to meet two criteria. 1) It has to reflect the sex of the child. No, Sam, is that short for Samantha? 2) It can't endanger the "well-being" of the child. Essentially, the Germans like to protect their children against hippie parents.

Anyways, my student originally hails from Italy and when we were talking about crazy names he said, or what I heard was, "My aunt had a communist face."

Needless to say, after that I sort of tuned out.

Immediately, I pictured Stalin. Was his aunt short with a hairy mustache? I hear that can happen in Eastern countries.Was her face a particular shade of red? Was she super plain, no makeup, greasy, missing teeth? Did she have a face that said, I farm on a commune? I pictured Tzeitel from Fiddler on the Roof. Was his Italian aunt really a Russian Jew? Matchmaker, matchmaker make me a match...

Auntie Maria?

I was at a loss trying to envision what a 'communist face' was. Had I listened more closely, I would have realized he had said a "communist PHASE" and named her Italian born son Ivan.

Upon further reflection of this incident, I realized, obviously, I'm very American, and as so, I had obviously formed strong opinions on what communism literally looks like. It would be like asking Germans what freedom looks like and they say, David Hasselhoff!

But it brings up an interesting thought. In your opinion, if you heard the expression, 'communist face', what doyou envision?

Things my students say: Shark week

Me: What animal are you afraid of?
Student: I don't know, but I'm pretty sure I'd piss on you in a shark tank.
Me: Uh...excuse me?
Student: ...I'd piss on him?
Me: *pointing at the student next to him. Him?
Student: Me?
Me: Myself.
Student: I'd piss on myself.
Me: Still awkward. Without the 'on.'
Student: I'd piss myself.
Me: There ya go. Where did you even learn that expression?

All I know is that's a whole lot of urine.

Awkward Situations: Got it bad, got it bad, got it bad.

Occasionally, I get asked out by students.  It can be flattering, and I get it; got it bad for teacher, live out the fantasy. That in itself is not that awkward. I do appreciate men who go for it, especially German men, because I've heard German women can be quite mean in their rejections. However, sometimes I do wish students would wait until AFTER the course is over. Now, before I get to how this turned awkward, let me give you an intro into this story.

I had this one student, early 20s, who stared at me a lot and would always hang around after class, chat me up, etc. I don't know about you reading this, but sometimes you just know. I'm not saying that every person likes me, but sometimes, you can just sense it. And I was right. (I like to consider myself a good reader of body language.)

On a Monday, my student brought me cake because he thought I'd like it. In retrospect I realize I was being wooed with lemon cake. But, then, he hung around after class, as usual, to help me carry some things upstairs. He goes, "What are you doing tomorrow night? Would you like to go to the Oktoberfest with me? I'd really like to go with you."

Now, of course, maybe he was being nice (later it was confirmed it was in fact an ask out) but I was like oh, thanks, but no thanks.

No big deal.

Then came Tuesday.

As part of a warm-up, I had an envelope of random questions they could pull out and ask each other. 'If you had a million dollars and had to spend it all in one day, what would you do?' 'What animal are you afraid of?' Those kinds of questions.

Well, someone pulls out, 'Describe an embarrassing moment.' We all laugh. I say, 'No worries. I've had plenty.'  And they were about to find out.

My student, bless his heart, goes, 'I asked my teacher out and she said no.'

My heart kind of stopped a second. It wouldn't have been a big deal if I hadn't been encouraging them all to ask follow up questions for more details. The students were kind of like, ohhhhh.

One student asked, which teacher?

My student turned and made eye contact with me. All I could think was, don't you dare...

He smiles and gestures at me. 'My English teacher'.

All heads turned to me. I closed my eyes for a second. After a moment of silent swearing, all
I could do was shrug, clear my throat, avoid eye contact,  and say, 'See. As I said, I've had plenty.'