I fear I have succumbed to assimilation. When I first arrived in Germany it was suppose to be short term, just a trial run so to say, in order to see if me and the German would work out. Plus I was thinking that it was in the center of Europe, and therefore how bad could it be? After living there however for 3 months and making less pretax and deductions than I had previously made after tax and deductions I concluded that it could be very bad indeed. And when one of my middle aged students threw a pen across the room while screaming that in his "40 years of learning English I have never heard of a phrasal verb" and therefore, obviously, I must be making it up in an effort to upset him, all of a sudden I was awash with nostalgia for Asia and a plane ride out was sounding mighty fine.
But it was Europe, and I had a mighty crush on the German, and then I switched language schools and got my motorcycle license, and work stopped being so, well, hellish, and all along I promised myself it was all just short term while I traveled the world with the German. Now its 3 years later and I refer to Germany as home, but I used to modify that with Patrick is my home, not Germany per se.
Well that little protective illusion has been riped away from me. It has happened. I woke up this morning craving, and I mean CRAVING, a German bakery. It hurts to my very soul. This is the thing (ok, ONE of the things) I mocked Germans for, with their insistence that "bread is not bread" before giving you a hurt look for mocking them so openly and scornfully. This is why you find German bakeries in the Himalayas. I thought they were crazy. Now I am in Iceland and wishing to the powers that be that somewhere in this country there would be a DECENT bakery.
I have been assimilated! :-(
And Patrick's response: "Well once you discover that you have been eating sponges all your life, well its not exactly something you can easily forget and just go back to."
Someone give me decent bread please!
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