Yay for Fridays! Boo for it being my last day as Peter’s guest blogger. Hee hee, I almost typed “guest booger.” It’s been one heck of a week, folks, I hope you’ve enjoyed it as much as I have.
So it being F and all, I am going to FU on my Wednesday post about the funny things that happen when people who do not share a mother tongue try to communicate. Having lived a whole stinking year in another country, I had this stuff happen to me all the time.
I don’t think I am stretching the truth here when I say that the most famous mix-up involving an American trying to speak German is President John F. Kennedy declaring, “Ich bin ein Berliner.” On the slightest off-chance that someone reading this does not know this story, here it is: In a lovely, no-hard-feelings-losers type gesture toward the Communist occupied, post-WWII Berliners, President Kennedy made a very nice speech in the German capital declaring that every citizen of the free world is a citizen of Berlin and that he would like to say to them, “ich bin ein Berliner.” Beautiful, right? Most Germans at the time thought so.
The small problem here is that Germans don’t actually put articles in front of nouns claiming nationality or profession. Whereas Americans would say “I am a Berliner” or “I am a teacher,” Germans say the equivalent of “I am Berliner/I am teacher.” So while “ich bin ein Berliner” does translate directly into “I am a Berliner” in American English, including the article “ein” in his sentence indicated that President Kennedy was not actually referring to the good people of Berlin, but in fact a jelly doughnut product in Germany called a Berliner.
A lot of people (including my favorite British transvestite comedian, Eddie Izzard) claim that “ich bin ein Berliner” actually means “I am a doughnut.” This is not technically the case. There are a couple different words for “doughnut” in German, but the Germans I met most commonly just say “doughnut.” Doughnuts as we know them do not exist in Germany, save the few imported Dunkin Donuts that have made their way across the Atlantic into the larger cities (including Berlin). Most German backereis are eerily similar and always contain the following items: the most delicious bread you have ever eaten (yeah, you heard me, France); less impressive but still quite tasty croissants (France wins there); weird gummy, stale-looking fruity pastries that you can never, ever force me to eat; and the Berliner. The Berliner is equivalent to an American jelly doughnut in just about every way, including the fact that I don’t like it. So Kennedy wasn’t really referring to a kind of breakfast food, but in fact a very specific product. I guess it’s sort of equivalent to claiming that he said “I am coffee” when he in fact said “I am a Frapuccino.” If “Frappucino”were a less ridiculous word. And a synonym for a citizen of a country’s capital city.
“Ich bin ein Berliner” is actually used in a lot of bakery advertisements in Germany. It is not uncommon for a backerei window to display a picture of a Berliner with a little cartoon dialogue bubble saying, essentially, “No, I am a Berliner! And I taste delicious! Come inside and find out for yourself!” So even though it appears that the Germans still enjoy getting a one-up on us Yanks whenever they can, I’ve been told by many sources that the German audience was more moved by JFK’s sentiment than put-off by his incorrect indefinite article usage. As well they should have been. And if, for some reason, some punk ass Deutschie did try to make fun of Kennedy for his little faux-pas, I would defy him to speak American English for more than two sentences without making some sort of mistake. Or to produce a Chancellor half as dishy as JFK.
Anyhoo, I was well aware of this story, and the existence of the Berliner, when I moved to Germany in 2004. What I was UN-aware of was the ever-present existence of a black and white, custard-filled cookie--essentially the only cookie available anywhere in Germany, why the Europeans resist the deliciousness of cookies so fervently is beyond me-- called the Amerikaner. So presumably, had I not learned from JFK’s mistake, I could have definitely said to somebody on a train, “ich bin ein Amerikaner” and would have been mistaking identifying myself as a rather disgusting cookie-type product. Incidentally, I also would have been saying I was a dude. “Amerikaner” is male American, “Amerikanerin” is the feminine. I freaking hate all languages that assign genders to words unnecessarily.
And on that beautiful, intolerant note, I conclude my tenure at UOPTA. So long, farewell, Auf Wiedersehen, goodbye.
Oh okay just one more thing. English seems to be one of the few languages that actually has a word for “good-bye.” Many languages’ equivalents for goodbye (au revoir, arrivederci, Auf Wiedersehen) mean something more like “until we meet again,” a much happier sentiment. I guess “adios” and "adieu" would be “to God” which actually seems even more final than goodbye if I think about it.
Okay. That’s it. I’m done. I swear. Goodbye.
So it being F and all, I am going to FU on my Wednesday post about the funny things that happen when people who do not share a mother tongue try to communicate. Having lived a whole stinking year in another country, I had this stuff happen to me all the time.
I don’t think I am stretching the truth here when I say that the most famous mix-up involving an American trying to speak German is President John F. Kennedy declaring, “Ich bin ein Berliner.” On the slightest off-chance that someone reading this does not know this story, here it is: In a lovely, no-hard-feelings-losers type gesture toward the Communist occupied, post-WWII Berliners, President Kennedy made a very nice speech in the German capital declaring that every citizen of the free world is a citizen of Berlin and that he would like to say to them, “ich bin ein Berliner.” Beautiful, right? Most Germans at the time thought so.
The small problem here is that Germans don’t actually put articles in front of nouns claiming nationality or profession. Whereas Americans would say “I am a Berliner” or “I am a teacher,” Germans say the equivalent of “I am Berliner/I am teacher.” So while “ich bin ein Berliner” does translate directly into “I am a Berliner” in American English, including the article “ein” in his sentence indicated that President Kennedy was not actually referring to the good people of Berlin, but in fact a jelly doughnut product in Germany called a Berliner.
A lot of people (including my favorite British transvestite comedian, Eddie Izzard) claim that “ich bin ein Berliner” actually means “I am a doughnut.” This is not technically the case. There are a couple different words for “doughnut” in German, but the Germans I met most commonly just say “doughnut.” Doughnuts as we know them do not exist in Germany, save the few imported Dunkin Donuts that have made their way across the Atlantic into the larger cities (including Berlin). Most German backereis are eerily similar and always contain the following items: the most delicious bread you have ever eaten (yeah, you heard me, France); less impressive but still quite tasty croissants (France wins there); weird gummy, stale-looking fruity pastries that you can never, ever force me to eat; and the Berliner. The Berliner is equivalent to an American jelly doughnut in just about every way, including the fact that I don’t like it. So Kennedy wasn’t really referring to a kind of breakfast food, but in fact a very specific product. I guess it’s sort of equivalent to claiming that he said “I am coffee” when he in fact said “I am a Frapuccino.” If “Frappucino”were a less ridiculous word. And a synonym for a citizen of a country’s capital city.
“Ich bin ein Berliner” is actually used in a lot of bakery advertisements in Germany. It is not uncommon for a backerei window to display a picture of a Berliner with a little cartoon dialogue bubble saying, essentially, “No, I am a Berliner! And I taste delicious! Come inside and find out for yourself!” So even though it appears that the Germans still enjoy getting a one-up on us Yanks whenever they can, I’ve been told by many sources that the German audience was more moved by JFK’s sentiment than put-off by his incorrect indefinite article usage. As well they should have been. And if, for some reason, some punk ass Deutschie did try to make fun of Kennedy for his little faux-pas, I would defy him to speak American English for more than two sentences without making some sort of mistake. Or to produce a Chancellor half as dishy as JFK.
Anyhoo, I was well aware of this story, and the existence of the Berliner, when I moved to Germany in 2004. What I was UN-aware of was the ever-present existence of a black and white, custard-filled cookie--essentially the only cookie available anywhere in Germany, why the Europeans resist the deliciousness of cookies so fervently is beyond me-- called the Amerikaner. So presumably, had I not learned from JFK’s mistake, I could have definitely said to somebody on a train, “ich bin ein Amerikaner” and would have been mistaking identifying myself as a rather disgusting cookie-type product. Incidentally, I also would have been saying I was a dude. “Amerikaner” is male American, “Amerikanerin” is the feminine. I freaking hate all languages that assign genders to words unnecessarily.
And on that beautiful, intolerant note, I conclude my tenure at UOPTA. So long, farewell, Auf Wiedersehen, goodbye.
Oh okay just one more thing. English seems to be one of the few languages that actually has a word for “good-bye.” Many languages’ equivalents for goodbye (au revoir, arrivederci, Auf Wiedersehen) mean something more like “until we meet again,” a much happier sentiment. I guess “adios” and "adieu" would be “to God” which actually seems even more final than goodbye if I think about it.
Okay. That’s it. I’m done. I swear. Goodbye.
2 comments:
And yet another thing in common - I love Eddie Izzard. Kevin and I will finally catch one of the specials on TV and go around for days quoting and annoying everyone around us.
Shalom, Stacy! You did a great job while Peter was gone. Lots of fun to read!
Post a Comment