Germany Diaries: Adjusting to a New Life

March 2, 2020 / 4 min read

Last Updated: March 2, 2020

Continuing from the first one since it was a hit. This article might cover a broader time span than the date of the previous one.

It's 8 AM, and while I'm reading a book, I pause the nature sounds playing on my phone for a moment because I'm not quite sure. Yes, the bird sounds are coming from outside, not my phone.

When I first arrived in Germany, I used to take the tram to work. After getting off, I would walk for about 10 minutes to the workplace. There seemed to be something unusual on one of the streets I passed through. There was a bird chirping sound coming from a loudspeaker on the street. It was so loud that I could hear it even with my headphones on. Was there a pet shop here broadcasting their sounds for advertising purposes? Or was there a lunatic on the street broadcasting these sounds from a speaker? Every time I passed by, the same bird sounds. How strange. A few weeks later, when I started waking up early in the morning, I noticed similar intense sounds in the central area of the building complex where I lived while reading a book. Of course, these were real bird sounds, and the sounds on that street were from these crazy chirping birds. How stupid of me! I wanted to write this because that's exactly what I experienced. It took me a long time to realize that the sounds I heard in the city were real.

From the day I arrived, I felt a very different sense of alienation on the streets. I had previously gone on a holiday to Greece by car, which was my first international experience. I didn't have the opportunity to make such an analysis at that time. Here, on empty roads, streets, and avenues, people would just wait for the green light before crossing, without a second thought. Writing this, I have already gotten used to this situation. But when I first arrived, I struggled not to throw myself onto the road. It was impossible for me to ignore the behavior pattern I had lived with for years all of a sudden. That's why I can see the situation more clearly today. Crossing the street represented my life and thought processes. From rushing to walking...

I read somewhere that a migrant coming to Turkey from abroad felt like the 5% minority following the rules in a place where 95% didn't. The situation was the exact opposite abroad. Everyone followed the rules, and the 5% minority didn't. Could the society's collective consciousness actually be influenced this way? The rules are for us.

The emptiness of the streets; I attribute this to the population being spread horizontally across the city. Due to horizontal urbanization, there are generally very few people on all streets except central areas. You can see some people on streets leading to main avenues. After the coronavirus, human traffic has decreased even more. The country feels like it's always on holiday. Everyone is at their summer houses. It's a beautiful thing.

Inner ache; I actually started this article in the first month. I followed the notes I took at that time, so the topics might seem a bit disjointed. In the first and second months, I intensely felt the fear of whether I could make it. Now, in my fourth month, I can comfortably say this about it. The ache lessens over time. People are strangers, so you are also a stranger to them. No matter how hard you try, you might remain a stranger for life. But is being a stranger so bad? If you want to get into a production routine, to do something, how important is integration? Over time, I believe integration will happen to a certain degree. I no longer feel sad or force myself about it. I have decisions I made previously, and I am moving forward according to those decisions. This was a foreseeable ache, and it's happening. It might get more intense in the future, or it might completely disappear. I can look at migrant songs and think they are just melodramatic, that they won't take me or anyone else a step further. Or I might forget what I said and imagine the days waiting for death in my summer house in Turkey during my retirement, filled with pessimism.

Second Chapter ends.

Impressions of the first months in Cologne, culture shock, and new discoveries