An American in Munich

It was cloudy and was already beginning to drizzle. My co-intern Ida and I had been waiting almost an hour for the bus to Fussen. It was a Sunday (in 2006), and like all holidays in Germany, most stores are closed and all means of public transport are running a very limited service.

Two German teens were ahead of the queue. A group of old Chinese tourist were behind us, then some German families with children.

On the way down from Neuschwanstein to the bus stop, Ida could not stop talking about the reason why she volunteered to show me around her town. “From an early age, we Germans have always been taught that we are by nature snobbish. Hence our parents and teachers always said we should try our best to be very outgoing to foreigners whether in Germany or outside.” Her story only reinforced my impression that Germans, or Caucasians from industrialized countries for that matter, are cultured people – learned and well-mannered. Definitely much more civilized than the small group of Chinese tourists who did nothing but shove other people inside the castle.

As it continued to drizzle, a group of Americans went in front of the queue. They looked up the bus schedule and loudly discussed which bus they would take. They looked at the long queue. The big guy, (football player physique), then continued talking to his companions about the “wonderful and laidback life” he has in Munich. Everything about the East coast, according to him, was rubbish. Intermittently, they would pop the question as to which bus to take to Fussen. As the bush arrived ten minutes later, they were still at the front of the queue, loudly discussing (again) which bus to take. Mind you, there was only one bus for the next three hours and everyone knew it.

As expected, the loud bunch jumped the line. They got a whole row for themselves. The two guys occupied one seat (which should have accommodated three). The lady occupied her own seat with her dog beside her. The bus was packed – all other seats were taken, and the aisles were full of other tourists trying to escape the gloomy weather of Neuschwanstein. The American guys sitting in front of us then continued, “I just love my life here in Munich. I could go to the park or river with a six-pack and not get arrested. It is so laid back.” The other guy replied with envy. And yes, the whole bus was listening to all the stories they had to tell. In fact, their conversation drowned out most everything else except the roar of the engine of the fully packed bus.

Then Ida asked me out loud, “So how is the public transport system in your country? How do you flag down, say a bus?”

“Of course there are lines. And a ‘conductor’ is always there to ensure all passengers are accommodated.”

“I imagine there are also people who jump the line,” Ida said out loud, and I noticed the American in front had turned red…and all of a sudden quiet.

“Yes,” I said.

“It is the same here in Germany,” she replied. “People jump the line just because they can. People break rules just because they think they can get away with it.”

It was at that moment the three Americans looked at us, with their faces all red. The big guy said, “Sorry we didn’t know there was a line.”

“Excuse me, I’m not talking about you,” Ida said.

“No, I’m just saying I didn’t see there was a line, and I thought I was at the end of the line.” The people at the aisles were shaking their heads and the lady American shoved her dog off the bench and coaxed it underneath the seat in front to let an elderly Chinese man sit. The Americans’ faces were all red, and they were silent from then on.

The bus arrived at the train station in Fussen and Ida and I made sure we occupied a different carriage to Munich as the Americans. As we settled down, I asked Ida, “Didn’t you say you Germans are supposed to be the most snobbish, proud and ill-mannered people in the whole world?” She could not stop laughing.