Craig recently returned to Leipzig, and, lucky for you, it only took a matter of days for him to experience another quandary. This time it happened at his roller hockey practice.
Craig is now living in Leipzig and has been very busy settling into our new German city. He set up a new bank account, registered as a resident with the city, got the keys to our very empty apartment (he is living temporarily in a hotel until our things arrive), finally got his cell phone, and even managed to lease a car!
He has had a relatively pain-free transition thanks to the help of his German-speaking colleagues from work and our relocation expert, Birgit. He has, however, been running into a bit of trouble when he doesn’t have a translator around.
Craig’s last quandary was such an unexpected hit, so I think it’s time for another.
In the two short trips I’ve taken with Craig to Germany, he’s had some, let’s say, difficulties getting the locals to understand his broken German. The first occasion was when we arrived to Germany for the first time. After landing at the Munich Airport, the customs officer took our passports and boarding passes and asked where we were headed. Craig made several attempts to say “Leipzig,” but the man got so frustrated trying to understand that he ended up looking it up in the book instead (the Leipzig airport is very small and is not a common destination for international travelers). He then grunted at us, “LIE-pzig not LEE-pzig.” Though, I was sure we had said it properly. The second occasion was when we were asking the hotel receptionist for directions to a specific location in the city. The woman spoke clear English, but the location name was in German. Craig said the name 4 or 5 times with slightly different variations, but she still wasn’t getting it. I stepped in and said it once in my best German accent, and she got it right away. (Craig wasn’t too pleased with that situation.)