What drives people to uproot their lives and move to another country? There must be thousands of reasons, but we can probably divide them into two specific categories: the practical and the romantic. Many change their surroundings in order to change their careers, to open doors that would remain firmly closed should they stay put, while others may hope that a temporary exodus will be rewarded lavishly when they eventually return. The pragmatic decision can be reason enough for some, but for the vast majority it’s surely the romance of travel that pushes them to go through the stress and struggle of packing up everything they own into so many boxes, attend tearful farewell parties, and set off into the unknown. Even the most cold hearted, career focused individual, deep down, must feel the sense of adventure that comes with the decision to leave everything and everyone they’ve ever known, to try out something completely different.

These romantic visions of travel have launched a thousand social media accounts, extolling the joys that come from experiencing a different culture, becoming immersed in a new language, or trying different and varied cuisines. However, like the image filters that enhance the positives of these accounts, many present an idealised version of reality that mask the effort required to make dreams of moving abroad a reality. As anyone who has lived for any length of time in a different country will tell you, there’s always a struggle, the price of success is effort, nothing more, nothing less. This is true whether you choose to move to a different part of your own country, or if you happen to choose a country like Germany. In fact, it probably goes double if you choose Germany.

The truth of Germany is that it’s not a land of convenience. This doesn’t mean it’s particularly unwelcoming, and it’s far from the most inhospitable place anyone could choose to move, but of the most popular destinations in Europe, it is one of the hardest for some to acclimate to. Much of life here requires serious effort: the language is by no means easy to grasp for new learners, directness of communication can come as a brutal shock, and the bureaucracy can be overwhelming even if you enjoy filling out endless paperwork and standing in never ending queues. The difference between the oft promoted visions of über cool Berlin, the rugged mountains of the south, or the fairytale castles that dot the landscape, and the everyday existence of actually living here can not only shock, but dishearten, and eventually metastasise into a full throated negativity of all things Teutonic.

This exact process was vividly depicted in a recent Business Insider article entitled ‘I moved to Germany and regret it. I've felt unwelcome by the people, and not even the great healthcare can convince me to stay.’. Ignoring the fact that Business Insider seems to specialise in a particular brand of hot take journalism, focused on take downs of some of the most popular countries for Americans, the story told in their article had many familiar aspects. The difficulty and expense of language learning, the horror of German tax law, the sometimes unfriendly feeling of small town German life with its accompanying xenophobia, even the distaste many Germans have for idle small talk was a source of complaint. I can’t be alone in recognising these points, but as someone who has, through much effort, made Germany home for over a decade, I also felt a sense of annoyance.

We’re all welcome to our opinions of course, and I don’t for one second doubt that some, if not all, that was mentioned in the article was offered without much exaggeration, but I nevertheless bristled at the article. You may wonder why that is, and initially I couldn’t quite put my finger on exactly what it was about this story of woe that had my hackles raised, but I have come to the conclusion that it boils down to the need to make an effort that I mentioned earlier. Germany is very much a country that rewards effort, not in the sense that is espoused by the xenophobic politicians that routinely complain about foreigners, but rather from the desire to understand Germany. So much of what is on the surface of this country is guaranteed to annoy, especially for those of us who have come from English speaking countries. I regularly feel like Germany was designed to challenge all the cultural preconceptions that I built up living in the UK. The lack of pointless politeness, quick but superficial friendships, the casual humour used to break tension or simply begin a conversation. I had to change in order for it to make sense, but once I changed my approach, stopped seeing things through a mist of ethnocentrism, I began to see what makes Germany such an amazing country.

The honesty and directness is abrasive, but I’ve come to rely on the fact that a lot of the time people will say what they mean to my face. Making lasting friendships can take years, but once made, they are practically unbreakable, and moreover as reliable as clockwork. The weekly shutdown that comes every Sunday may seem inconvenient, but once understood, becomes an island of true calm in a week of turbulence. Nothing is instantaneous, nothing is really that efficient, sometimes it can seem far from modern, but that isn’t inherently a bad thing. It just takes time, far longer than 18 months at least, and it takes some leg work.

There are few aspects of my life that were handed over on a silver platter, and if this is the expectation, then perhaps Germany isn’t right for you. Yet, for the very reason that I had to push through certain boundaries, I love Germany all the more. I’m a German by choice, which in itself was no small feat, and I don’t doubt I will face more challenges going into my second decade here, but I’m more than prepared for it. Call me a masochist, but I’ve come to enjoy the challenge, and I don’t really ever see that changing.

Proofreader: @ScandiTina

Image Credit

Photo by Danka & Peter on Unsplash

Photo by Volodymyr Hryshchenko on Unsplash

Photo by Jack Anstey on Unsplash

Photo by Magda Ehlers

Photo by Marco Sebastian Mueller

Photo by Alex Azabache