nosuch.org

Registering of residency is a practice here in Germany that doesn’t exist in the United States. When we moved to Munich, both Conny and I had to visit the Public Service Bureau to register that we now live here. You need to provide some documentation, such as a lease, and in our case our proof of marriage (since I am not an EU citizen.) It’s a simple process, and it makes sense. For any other agency or institution that wants “proof of residency” there is now a single, legal document we can give. This is unlike the United States, where everyone has a different list of what is considered acceptable documentation that you live somewhere. This also provides the municipal governments with useful information for services like schools and knowing the size of the general population.

About a week after we registered there was a huge piece of mail addressed to me jammed into the mailbox slot. The postman could not put the envelope in the mailbox because it was so wide, and so stiff. Turns out it was a “Welcome Package” from MVG, the Munich Transit Authority. This glossy, full color marketing binder contained a greeting from MVG, extolling the virtues of Munich mass transit, and providing a bunch of useful information on tariffs, routes and contact information. The thing looked more like what a cruise line would send me, not the bus and subway people. It has cutouts on the dividers, and pull out maps with stickers you can use. This thing isn’t cheap.

My first thought on flipping through this expensive piece of marketing material was that the people of Munich are paying way too much on their transit fares.

We tucked the binder away for reference, and I didn’t think too much more about it.

A week after that I got another letter from my new best friend in Munich, MVG. At least this time it was in a normal-sized envelope. Inside was an offer for a free weekly pass for the entire transit system as their gift to me, a new Munich citizen. I just had to go on the web site and log in with the provided account and password, and they’d mail me the pass to activate starting on any day I want.

These people really want me to use the transit system. In fairness, Munich has great public transportation which includes buses, trams, surface trains and subways. We’ve been using it when we need to, so this offer was a nice freebie. But seeing that I had to go online and wait to get the pass in the mail, there didn’t seem to be any urgency. I procrastinated and put the offer aside to use later, with Conny’s help.

A week after that, my obsessive pen-pal MVG wrote me again. This new letter told me about the previous offer from a week earlier, and expressed concern because I had not logged on to the web site. They speculated that maybe I misplaced the earlier letter as I unpacked from the move, or perhaps I didn’t receive it in the first place. In any case, they provided me again with the account and password, and let me know my free weekly pass is waiting for me.

At this point I expect someone in an MVG mascot outfit to break my door down, drag me to Ostbahnhof, and force me to ride all over the city until I profess my undying love and commitment to transit in all its forms. How can a transit authority be so needy? I feel like MVG is stalking me. I almost want to insist on walking everywhere now, just out of spite.

I don’t understand why the municipal transit authority has to engage in such a hard sell. There are no other mass transit options. Unless I drive or walk, they are the only game in town. Do they think new residents move here from caves, having never seen transit of any kind? That the buses, trams, subway entrances and train stations mystify people who move here? Did someone at MVG imagine people are shuffling slowly down the sidewalk thinking “Gosh, I wonder what those things are with all those people riding on them. I guess I’ll never know.”

The 2011 Oktoberfest ended yesterday. We made one last visit.

Thank goodness its over. Keeping up with these people is going to kill me.

When it came time to pack up to move to Munich, we tried to get rid of everything we didn’t need, and anything worn out and ready to be replaced. No place was this more true than in the kitchen. It made no sense to move a worn out plastic spatula, a tired frying pan or a cruddy can opener.

This led to some confusion when unpacking, though. Trying to remember what we threw out or gave away and what we packed caused several incidents where we were sure we packed something, but couldn’t lay our hands on it. Though in many cases this wasn’t a huge issue since Conny ’s parents had ensured, by either loans or gifts, that we had almost all of the necessities.

For instance we had a snazzy new can opener. On a day to day basis we don’t actually need to open a lot of canned goods. And those few times we do, like for feeding the dog, they had pull tops. The first can I needed to open was a can of lychees to make Conny a lychee martini. That’s when I discovered I had no idea how to use this new can opener.

It was the kind you just crank by hand, so how hard can it be? I struggled with it for a few minutes, before I finally discovered an approach where the can would spin around when I cranked. I went the whole way around the can, and the lid seemed unfazed.

Conny couldn’t figure out how to make it work either, and since she was busy finishing up dinner, she finally suggested I make another drink for her instead. I gave up and put the can back in the cabinet, defeated by a simple, mechanical can opener.

Two weeks must have passed before the next need to open a can. This time is was tuna fish. Since I wasn’t in a rush, I went to Google to figure out how this dang can opener worked. It took one search to find a YouTube video showing me exactly how to use it.

In short order, I had the can of tuna fish opened. Turns out we had one of these fancy safety can openers, that cuts under the rim instead of the lid. Works very well and no sharp edges, just like the man on TV says. The only trick is the lid sometimes needs a little help coming out and the opener has a little gizmo on the side like a pair of pliers to help.

I thought back to the can of lychees. On a hunch, I took the can out of the cabinet and gave the top a little push with my finger. I had actually used the opener correctly, and it was open all along.

I threw out those lychees and chalked it up as a cheap lesson.

With all the unpacking, we generated a large amount of recycling. We had several stuffed boxes of flattened cartons and paper. While our building has a bin to put such things in, they only come for paper every other week, and that would mean we’d fill it for about a month. That wouldn’t make us very popular with our neighbors.

My father-in-law offered to help haul it to the recycling center with his car. Since he also looks after the building we’re in, it was a chance for him to get rid of some other junk while having me help with loading and unloading. Seemed like a fair deal to me.

That was before I helped him carry up the old freezer from the basement. The German vocabulary word of today is schwer.

Since there was a lot of stuff to take, he had borrowed a small trailer from a friend. We loaded it up with all the moving cartons, that freezer, some old cabinet, a broken chair, and a beaten up bike. Then we were off to the dump.

Though, honestly, when we got there, I couldn’t call it a dump any more. It was the cleanest, most organized recycling and trash facility I have ever seen. There were containers and compactors for all different categories of trash, and lots of men in orange jumpsuits guiding cars and people around. I got scolded for putting the wood counter top of the old cabinet in the “furniture” bin, when it should go in the “wood” bin.

Leave it to the sloppy American to screw things up at the Munich dump.

Not having to punch a clock for someone else means ultimately I have to punch a clock for me. Self motiviation has never been a strong suit of mine, but the only way to get good at something is to practice and keep at it. The only person who can bring about success in my life is me, so I have to take charge of my time.

Here’s what fills up my day, when I’m not carousing at the biergarten or Oktoberfest:

• Learning German

Right now this means spending at least thirty minutes a day with Rosetta Stone. I try to take care of this first thing in the morning, usually with breakfast. It’s a very defined task that’s good for a slightly unfocused brain, and it gets me in gear.

• Blogging

This task feels the most indulgent, but it’s useful to capture and document this big transition in my life. Since I can tackle whatever I feel like with words and pictures it’s creative. But it is also social, as friends who are both here or far away can get a slice of my distinctive perspective. Another good thing from a psychological perspective is this is something I actually can complete within a given day. Since my other projects tend to have longer time horizons, this one has regular, tangible output, and that feels good and keeps me motivated on other goals.

• Software Development

After ten years of mostly Visual Basic in Excel, you could say my brain has gotten a little soft. Learning iOS and Objective C has been a nice stretch. Until I get my bearings, I’ve been working through the chapters in iOS Programming: The Big Nerd Ranch Guide and Programming in Objective-C. I ordered both for my Kindle, and keep them open on my iPad while I do the lessons on the MacBook Air. Yes, you can run Xcode 4 on the Air just fine, if you don’t mind the small screen. The Big Nerd Ranch Guide has been hugely helpful, and the lessons are grounded in real application development and practical experience. Ideally I can complete a chapter or two in a day.

Sometimes I keep the tutorial books closed and roll up my sleeves and try to code something for myself. Mostly I focus on designing and implementing classes to be used as components in the apps I eventually want to make. I have a bit more work to do before I can actually build a complete app on my own.

• Writing

While blogging is indeed writing, I have also undertaken writing some long-form fiction. That’s a humble way of saying I’m writing a novel. The first draft is up to 140 pages, and I’m probably less than half finished. It’s not really intended for a general audience, though. Specifically it is for grown ups who like things a bit “non-vanilla”. My intention when I started was to write some cerebral smut, but as it progressed, it got less smutty and more like a real novel. When it’s done, I’d love to publish it as a Kindle book, though mostly for shits and giggles. If it sold a dozen copies, I’d consider that a big success.

The more important takeaway from doing this has been the realization that I could tackle writing a “real” novel after this. I enjoy the process a great deal, but it’s a lot of work.

Any day where I can check off each of these items feels like a productive, successful day. The novel has taught me that doing a little bit of something every day consistently can yield substanial results.