Hello world!

In the introduction to his book "Notes from a big country" Bill Bryson claims that there are three things you can't do in life: Beating the phone company, making a waiter see you before he is ready to see you and, lastly, going home again. Although, you might reasses the feasibility of the last point. In Bryson's case "going home again" meant moving back to the US after twenty-odd years spent in the UK, in my case this means moving back to Germany after having spent a couple of years living in the Netherlands (well, four years an some months in lovely Delft) and Canada (just a bit under a year in London, Ontario).

The main lesson I have learned living abroad is that nothing makes you more aware of your ethnical background than living in a place where almost nobody shares it with you. For example, my lack of beer drinking (not to speak of loving that stuff) never caused the tiniest remark in Germany. Abroad, I was often introduced to new people by comments along the line "he's from Germany. But can you believe it: He doesn't drink beer." Anyway, in this small blog I am going to write about the curious, funny and sometimes disturbing aspects that come with living again among Germans after a prolonged stay abroad. And since I am quite interested in politics and history, I won't refrain from publishing my -- often wikipedia fueled -- ejaculations on these topics here either. So you have been warned. And if this warning hasn't put you off: Enjoy the reading.