Life in Small Town German-America

Kandern train station

I used to think that I grew up in a small town. Lake Bluff, population 5,710, felt like quintessential, small-town America, complete with a main street and a park with a gazebo. At least, I used to think so, before I moved to Germany. Because back in August, but I didn't know that Kandern was actually more like small town America than Lake Bluff--except that everyone spoke German and there were no crunchy granola bars.

Even Uncle Sam is in Kandern!

When did the realization hit that my year in Kandern, Germany would be closer to living in small-town America than anywhere else I'd probably ever live? I think it started at Ikea, which is arguably very European, and not very small-town-like. But have you ever run into upwards of forty people you knew at Ikea before? I am not exaggerating. During our first trip to Ikea, we saw new acquaintances around every corner. After thirty minutes of chitchatting at what felt like an architecture and design themed cocktail party without drinks, we had to duck behind the strangely-sized pillow section to sneak out before we ran into more friends. 

The really fun part about every native North American in this town shopping at Ikea, is that everyone's apartments look like slightly different versions of each other--Like the showrooms on Ikea's top floor, plus a lot of Christian books and framed Bible verses. Our friends have the same pillows as we do, only theirs are on the bed instead of the couch. My neighbor has the same plant holder as I do, only I thought it was a candle holder... And of course we all have the same teeny-tiny glasses that couldn't keep a fish hydrated, and make me feel super high-maintenance when I need my glass re-filled seven times during dinner at a friend's.

Running into people we knew at Ikea was great, but it doesn't happen every time. Ikea is, after-all, forty minutes away, in Freiburg. What does happen every time, though, is running into friends at the grocery store. I honestly don't know if I've gone to grocery store in Kandern without seeing someone I know. Ten years ago, when I moved to West Palm Beach for college (or, university, as they say here because it sounds so much cooler), I longed to run into someone at Publix. Because everyone knows that when you see an acquaintance at the grocery store, you really live there. You fit in. You are known. Well, if I added up all the times I've run into people I know at the grocery store in my life, it wouldn't come close to the number of friends I see at the grocery store here in a week. And not only is it nice to see friendly faces amidst the madness of the German grocery experience, but asking a fellow English-speaker, "Where are the breadcrumbs?" is often easier than asking an employee, "Habenzie brot...?" and then acting out the crumbling of bread and hoping they are good at charades.

My favorite part of small town life is the walking. I walk to the grocery store, the cafe, the insurance store, the doctor, friend's houses, the bank, the bookstore, the pharmacy, the little bench by the river...it's all so close and convenient. (I do drive to work, as it is a few kilometers away, and embarrassingly, I usually drive to the main BFA campus, even though it is a few blocks away. I blame it on the preposterous amount of library materials I am usually toting back and forth. Feel free to judge me, it's admittedly pretty lame.)

The most flabbergasting aspect of small town life is the lack of security at the bank. A few times I've gone to the counter to deposit money. I try to avoid this because if you are assisted at the counter more than once a month, you are charged. I did need to pay my doctor bill, though, and so to the counter I marched. Being without my bank card or ID, I figured I would need to deposit cash into the doctor's account.  However, the bank teller ignored the money in my hand and asked for my name, in order to deposit the money directly from my account. He couldn't find me in the system, so I told him my husband's name. Bingo. He found him. "And how much would you like to deposit?" I told him the amount, and that was that. All taken care of. No need to see my bank card, or even my ID to make sure I really was Kate Jones, married to Jordan Jones, from whose account he was about to withdraw a sizable amount of money. 

 One of our friends recently transferred his rent money into his landlord's account, only to find out a few weeks later that his landlord never received the money. Somehow, it was deposited into another family's account. Thankfully, our friend knew this family and together they walked to the bank one day after school to sort out the mess. In America, this fiasco would involve profuse apologies on the part of the bank and probably some kind of free service added to his account at no charge. In Germany, however, the bank offered no apology. And this visit counted as one of his monthly trips to the counter! I love Germany, but sometimes I just don't understand...

The most interesting part of small town life is the overlap of relationships. Life back in Denver was so separate and all my relationships fit into nice little categories. I had my co-workers, Jordan's co-workers, our church friends, neighbors, and extended family. Here, my friend is my co-worker; my student's mom is the counselor; our landlord is Jordan's soccer buddy; my workout partner and friend is Jordan's cello teacher; my other friend's mom is my supervisor; and sometimes I even go to game night with my students' parents. My world's have collided!

 It is strange, but at the same time it is beautiful because it is being known. It forces me to be the same person, remaining consistent even though my roles change. I am not Kate the teacher, Kate the workout person, Kate the church member, Kate the friend. I am just Kate. Kate who does each of those different things, but always the same Kate. (Okay, now my name is starting to sound strange because I've said it too many times.)

So, there's a taste of life in small town German-America. And if you've been longing for small town life, you might want to consider Kandern. You do not even have to carry your bank card with you! Just don't expect an apology from the bank if your rent money actually ends up going to your neighbor who is also your co-worker who is also your librarian who is also your work-out buddy who is also your friend.