Berlin - Lost in Cultural Translation
How to Inadvertently Alienate People.
Recently, at a gallery vernissage, I heard a friend of a friend talk about her Berlin trip:
"I found such stylish glasses at this amazing Berlin designer store." She aimed to impress people by saying she had been to hip Berlin and acquired a cutting-edge fashion item unavailable in the US. With genuine interest, I asked: "What is the designer's name?" Confused at my direct inquiry, she answered:
"I don't remember." Wanting to help her recall the place, I suggested:
"Maybe you remember where the store was, Kurfürstendamm, Friedrichstrasse, or Prenzlauer Berg?" This information would have told me more as it corresponds to somebody buying on Madison Avenue, in Soho, or in Brooklyn. I joked:
"Maybe it was a Fielmann store?"
Please click on the images to enlarge.
Any German would have laughed at that suggestion, as those chain stores have a specific image. A Fielmann customer in Germany is as stereotyped as a Walmart shopper in the US. Ignoring my suggestion, a look of irritation came over her face as she asked me:
"Why? Have you been to Berlin?"
"Yes, I lived there for ten years." I added: “I still maintain an apartment in Kreuzberg." It was like telling her that I had an apartment in NoHo in New York, a once edgy but now trendy neighborhood.
She dropped the conversation. I realized I had inadvertently upstaged her. I had been excited to talk about a place I knew and eager to exchange information about it. But all I had managed to do was negate her innocent brag about her travel shopping experience aimed at an American audience who knew about Berlin from the New York Times travel section. It had not been my intention. I had been genuinely interested in her store recommendation.
I remember two other interactions. I complimented an American friend in the US on wearing a stylish pantsuit. She responded:
"It's from Saks Fifth Avenue. It was a splurge, but it was worth it."
In Berlin, I complimented a German friend on her new fashionable shoes. Apologetically, she explained:
"Yes, they were on sale."
In the US, it is alright to state that one owns something exclusive and has paid a premium for it. After all, it is about showing that one can afford it and live the American dream. In Germany, not so much. Only a humblebrag will do. It comes from a time after the war when people were poor and desperate. Anybody who owned something special had clearly gotten it by disreputable means, like the Fräuleins in their silk stockings or buying from the illegal black market.
Living in an environment that requires constant cultural translation becomes wearing. It is the price one pays for living in several cultures with different social norms, reference points, and cultural backgrounds. But I would not have it any other way. It gives me a different perspective on things others accept as absolute.