Es Zieht: Are Germans Scared of a Cool Breeze?
It might seem hard to believe but some of the most contentious discussions I have with my wife concern draughts. I had no idea a decade ago that I’d spend so much time in my late thirties arguing over airflow and the real or imagined dangers of a cool breeze, then again, I had no idea that I’d move to Germany. It turns out that draughts are an important issue here, either people are avoiding them or actively welcoming them into their homes and offices. Sometimes the air is “good” and sometimes it’s “bad” but it’s never totally clear which is which or how to tell one from the other, the only indicator that you might be letting bad air into a space is the exclamation “Es Zieht!”.
“Es Zieht” simply means “it's draughty”. On the face of it, this might seem the least of anyone's problems and to some it might even be considered a blessing during the hot summer months. However, in Germany air-flow is serious business. I’ve been told at various times that draughts can lead to flu, pneumonia, sore neck, rheumatism, muscle spasm and, in one particularly bizarre discussion, death. My wife’s position is somewhere in the middle of this spectrum of alarming ailments, she’s fairly sure no one is going to die from a cool breeze, but she won’t countenance air-conditioning or fan being active in a bedroom at night no matter what the temperature is outside. I tend to agree with her here, but less because of the health issues it may cause and rather more for the environmental implications of running such devices through the night.
At first I assumed the concern with airflow was one of those personal idiosyncrasies that many relationships are built on, then I came to Germany and realised it wasn’t just my wife, it was nationwide. In fairness I understand the benefits of airflow, I’m not a total monster. I appreciate the health-giving properties of good ventilation. From the Victorian cholera epidemics to the spread of Influenza and Covid-19, ventilation has been a simple way to combat disease. Office workers in Germany will routinely open all windows of an office in the morning and/or after lunch to let in the “frische Luft” (fresh air), and I can attest to the benefits, especially in those older offices where air-conditioning is only an exciting fantasy. Fresh air does tend to wake people up after lunch. The same approach is taken in homes, where airing bedrooms and bed clothes is still a common household task. At least once a week, I see neighbours hang their bed sheets out the window to maximise the benefits of the “good air”.
Germany is not alone in its desire for the right kind of air flow, other European countries have similar discussions, all of which seem to centre on the movement of air. Yes, I appreciate that air is always moving, but for Germans it seems that air can flow too much. The temperature of the air is also an important factor, cold moving air appears to be the “bad air”, but what constitutes cold air or even movement is incredibly subjective. Cold air, moving through an office on a cold or hot day is good. Occasionally, the phrase “Liebe ersticht als erforen” (better to suffocate than freeze) can be heard, but those maverick souls who utter such blasphemy are usually ignored. Cool air flowing through a moving vehicle on the other hand, say on a train, is apparently a death sentence. Opening a window on a packed train during summer months could be the precursor to forceful shouts of “Es Zieht!” and acrimonious disputes with fellow passengers.
For the British, the declaration of “Es Zieht!” sounds ridiculous and the determined enforcement of subjective rules on air flow comes across as petty, especially on a hot day. This is not surprising, after all, Britain is an island. Even in the most landlocked areas of the UK, people are only ever a couple of hours away from the coast and the accompanying sea breeze/gale force storm. Additionally, most British families don’t have the same qualms about air flow. My wife is often bemused when we travel to see my family in the North East of England, where most people don’t open their windows regularly. A lot of the people I know were brought up with the idea that cool air was a menace, and that warmth was a priority over fresh air. Many were told to close windows or doors as parents weren’t “paying to heat the whole street”. My grandparents appreciated the need to air bed clothes, but unlike the Germans, this process simply required the bed sheets to be moved to the end of the bed until it was time to make the bed again. No windows were ever opened.
It’s hard to shake that kind of forceful cultural programming. The unpredictability of the weather, the age of most housing and high energy prices mean that in Britain many people worry less about fresh air flow and much more about living in a cold house. For British people, cold and damp homes are major factors in health issues, especially for older people. In my experience, these are also areas of concerns for Germans, especially with renters. However, most German homes are relatively modern (post-war) and are built to a higher specification than those found in the North of England (pre WWI & WW2) or many other areas of the UK.
Where does this leave my wife and me? Well, not really any further forward. We certainly argue less over whether the window is open or not or if using the air-con in the car will kill us all. However, the arguments have begun to circle back on us both with the birth of our daughter. Now more than ever I have not only my wife but other German relatives worrying about whether the baby will get cold. This makes sense in winter, but even on the hottest days German family members will worry that out daughter will catch a chill if she’s not wearing socks and a hat. Thankfully my daughter seems to have taken more after myself given her complete unwillingness to wear either for longer than two minutes.
I understand German sensibilities more than I did, but I’m always going to find complaints of “Es Zieht!” fussy and passive aggressive, especially when some bright spark tries to back up their complaints with grand scientific claims about air-flow. Sitting in pools of sweat on one of the many older train carriages used by Deutsche Bahn seems ridiculous if people can open a window, but many choose not to if only to avoid an argument. Annoying as it is, things are never going to change, maybe I just need to adapt or discover the secret to sweating less. If anyone knows how, I’m open to suggestions.
Image Credit
Photo by murat esibatir from Pexels
