The Election in Germany (for 4th Graders)

Freebies from info stands of various German political parties, including a surprise from Die Linke:
"We leave no one hanging."

Language barrier aside, politics is hard enough to understand. But even so, it's been all around me, as Germany has been abuzz with talk about the general election, which takes place in less than 24 hours.

Here's the thing about learning a foreign language. When the only spoken and heard words you have at your disposal are in that language, you supplement communication with body language, stick figure drawings, and sound effects. It's a lot like playing Charades. Or Taboo, except that you don't even know what the taboo words on the card mean so it doesn't make any difference, and you end up giving a description that sounds like: "the thing that's on the thing you put your head on when you sleep" (pillow case).

In other words, my German is at about the level of a 4th grader.

In the case of the election, I've been collecting photographs of campaign posters. Suddenly and simultaneously, starting about a month ago, a whole legion of them sprang up -- on telephone poles and on trees, on the walls of subway stations, and on brochures left in neighborhood doorways. But it ought to be said that political campaigning in Germany is strictly regulated. The word that comes to mind is "kontrolliert," an adjective meaning "checked, policed, or controlled."

It only took a couple weeks in Germany to notice that I was hearing this word -- a lot. And as a native English speaker, it sounds as if everything is being controlled, wherein "control" has a negative connotation, so I often have to remind myself otherwise.

Many things are "kontrolliert": the quality of tap water, that pedestrians/cyclists/motorists don't cross red lights (even as a jaywalking pedestrian you can get a ticket), and so on.

The guys going around the buses and subways, checking (sometimes undercover, in plain clothes) passengers for tickets, are known as the "Kontroller." (It's a sort of honor system to use the public transportation system. There's no such thing as running a ticket through a turnstile, which honestly saves quite a bit of time, but if you're caught "schwarz fahren," which literally means "black traveling," that is, without a valid ticket, you can be fined €40.)

The politically-focused section you skip if you're already getting bored

Before we go on to the campaign posters, a little background on the parties themselves:

Unlike in the US, where we have only two main political parties, the Germans have a multi-party system, in which a coalition of parties must form in their parliament in order to form a ruling majority. The usual suspects are:

1. The Christian Democratic Union (CDU)/Christian Social Union (CSU): the party of current Chancellor Angela Merkel. Among their goals are fiscal conservatism and tax cuts. (More similar to the American Republicans than Democrats.) The CSU exists only in Bavaria, the "special" Bundesland (or province) in southeastern Germany. They always ally themselves with the CDU, which does not exist in Bavaria.
2. The Social Democratic Party (SPD): the main opposition party, more focused on social justice. (More similar to the American Democrats.)
3. Die Grünen, or the Greens, who originally started as a party with its primary focus on protecting the environment and developing sustainable energy. In the Free and Hanseatic City of Hamburg, this election they also want the state to take over the energy grid.
4. Die Linke, or the Left, wants, for example, a nation-wide standardized minimum wage, which does not currently exist. Some trade unions regulate self-determined minimum wages within their respective fields.
5. The Free Democratic Party (FDP), which is "liberal" in an unexpected way for Americans. They are liberal because they rally for a freer (a.k.a. less state-controlled) market. They also support major businesses, something an American would associate with the Republicans.

Last Sunday in the Bavarian provincial election, both the Greens and the FDP made poor showings. (In fact, the FDP won zero seats in the provincial parliament.) Though that only affected the local government, some are saying it also indicates waning support for those parties in the region. If in the national election tomorrow they fail to garner sufficient votes (at least 5%), the resulting coalition in the Bundestag may be different from what it is today -- the CDU/CSU + FDP.

Supposing that the CDU/CSU maintains its position with leading votes but the FDP - its current coalition colleague - doesn't earn enough to give the CDU/CSU a house majority, the CDU/CSU will have to find itself a new partner. In recent history, the party with the next most votes and least estranged political platform, aside from the FDP, is the SPD. It is thus possible to imagine that the new Bundestag will be ruled by a Grand Coalition of the CDU/CSU and SPD.

But wait. Did anybody catch the debate between CDU and SPD leaders Merkel and Steinbrück? Did anybody hear them swearing up and down that they would never work with the other? Should there be such a grand coalition, it should prove very interesting to see the politicians backtrack.

Why you should really read this post

While the bigger parties continue to fight, let's not forget the little guys. Germany has more than 30 registered political parties. And, for your enjoyment, here's a 4th-grade-friendly collection of photographic propaganda, featuring some of the more eyebrow-raising little guys. (The big guys have pretty hum-drum slogans, like, "So that Germany stays strong." Uh huh.)

1. Die Partei

"Protesters" march just outside the Hamburg Central Station, carrying posters with slogans such as, "Overcome contents!"

In Hamburg I witnessed a "party bus" (ha, get it?) just outside the central station. A hodgepodge group had gathered around a bus blasting pop hits, carrying bottles of beer and homemade posters. Of these, it was obvious they'd been made from the posters of other parties, cut in half, flipped around, and then Sharpied with their own slogans, such as, "Enough is enough" or "More of everything." Many Germans are baffled by their existence, not knowing what exactly their aim is. But that's probably the point. At the very least, they are amusing in their satirical approach to campaigning.

A "Partei" member offers a patrol officer a beer.

"Bring the Wall back - Out with Merkel!
Wall in Merkel!"

2. BIG

Another peculiar party that has caught my attention is the Bündnis für Innovation und Gerechtigkeit (BIG), or, the Alliance for Innovation and Justice. Ironically enough, the BIG Partei isn't big at all, in terms of party members. As far as I can tell, their platform includes advocacy for diversity and anti-adoption by gay parents (possibly opposing aims...).

"Every child has the right to a father and mother."

3. Die Piraten

Lastly, as a send-off, one last poster from the Pirates, a party focused on Internet freedom and transparency in the government:

"I'm against corruption, and you?"

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Disclaimer: I am not a political scientist or expert of, well, anything. So please excuse any possible inaccuracies. Thanks.

"I am not a visitor."

" Night and day, you are the one / Only you beneath the moon, under the sun "

Yes, the Cologne Cathedral (or, in German, the Kölner Dom) is quite a sight. Your first impression is that it reaches unbelievable, majestic heights and stretches from east to west, farther than you could possibly imagine, especially knowing that construction began in 1248.

But this post is not about experiencing the Dom as one of the day's 20,000 visitors. Today, I was not a visitor.

No, I'd been to the Dom several times before. In fact, my very first full day in Cologne, my HM brought me here. We took the subway, and as I made my way out of the main station, I could see through the station's floor-to-high-ceiling glass main entrance, wondering at the full height of the Gothic structure, which was not visible until we were outside.

I mean, wow.

I'd also been to the Dom twice before for Mass and another evening for an organ concert, which the cathedral hosts every Tuesday evening during the summer, free to the public. On these evenings the pews, the kneelers, and even floor space are packed. Locals who know better bring lawn chairs. The air is filled completely with the reverberating sighs and groans of the organ.

Today I went again for Mass. Attending a German-language Mass is a lot like attending an English-language Mass, except that there are only so many phrases and words during the sermon you can understand -- that's why you start to space out, and most of the hymns don't have a regular meter, and after the first verse of the hymns you have to keep one finger on the musical notation and another finger on the subsequent verses that are printed below the music, and they pronounce Latin with a German twist.

When you attend a German-language Mass at the Kölner Dom, be prepared for the bouncer, who filters the faithful from the tourists as they bottleneck their way down the central aisle, swerving around gaggles of flashing cameras and diving through the white noise of multilingual awe. Today, as I approached the bottleneck, the bouncer was making his usual announcement, in both German and English:

"Only for worship, please. No visitors."

Side note:  Actually, that's kind of misleading, now that I think about it. He should really say, "No tourists," or perhaps, "No distracting, non-worshiping, non-Bible-curious tourists," as churches generally welcome visitors. That's kind of the idea. All are welcome. In fact, today's gospel reading (Luke 14:1, 7-14) encouraged us to invite even "the poor, the crippled, the lame, the blind."

I had heard this before so I simply kept walking, but I was cut off by the bouncer's arm right as I was about to pass, like a candy cane-striped gate that unexpectedly lowers at a railroad crossing when all you want to do is drive home.

Mr. Bouncer repeated his mantra, "Only for worship."

Okay, so here's what I'm thinking at this particular moment.

Yes, I heard you. I understood you both times, in German and English. I am here to worship. Do you have a problem with that? Or do I just look too much like an Asian tourist for you to handle?

Never before today had I felt so self-aware of my "Asian-ness" in Germany as I did just then. Feeling irritation building inside of me, I looked him in the eye and said simply (in German), "Yes, exactly." Yes, I know, thanks very much, that's what I'm here for.

He said an "entschuldigung" ("excuse me") and his arm of barrier became a gesture of please come forward.

Oh, but boy was I pissed. I sat on a pew, a bit shaken and not liking the feeling of being racially profiled. I was determined, however, to not let it bother me. I was there because I wanted to find peace on a Sunday morning. I was there to sing with joy.

Yet, I understood that he was doing his job. With eight masses a day and tens of thousands of sheep to sort, one can't help but organize all of that data into general categories. And in the past he'd probably had to stop a good deal of clueless Asian tourists wanting to snap photos of the stained glass windows.

My anger was now redirecting itself from the bouncer to the hordes of Chinese tourists around the world who chatter loudly, block pathways whilst taking photographs, and generally don't exhibit much of the kind of decorum that is valued in the Western world.

Okay, I thought, that's not helping, either. And I knew I couldn't blame a poor Chinese soul for walking down the aisle, trying to see more of a spectacular architectural treasure, when in all likelihood they didn't understand the message that had been said in German and English. Who knows...?

In the end, I could forgive the misunderstanding and was able to peacefully participate in the service and soak in the sounds of Barber's Adagio for Strings (as transcribed for organ) during communion.

I mean, wow.

Still, perhaps for future use and as a preventative measure I'll hang a sign around my neck that says something to the effect of:

"I am not a visitor."

          I am not a "visitor."
          I am, in fact, an American student, who happens to have Asian heritage and would thus like to apologize, on their behalf, for any rude Chinese tourists you might have encountered. My ancestors apologize, too.
          I am here in Germany with the support of the German and US governments.
          I am a musician and sing all of the hymns louder and more confidently than anyone else in this 85,000 sq ft cathedral.
          I have music degrees from M.I.T. and Yale. (Admittedly not relevant.)
          Also, just by the way, I am Catholic.
          Peace be with you.

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Disclaimer:  This piece is not meant to illustrate animosity, but rather to serve simply as an anecdote.