On Living Alone

There are 80 million people living in Germany. I live in one of the most densely populated areas: the Ruhr area. My town has about 70,000 people, mostly German, some Turkish. I teach classes full of 36 kids, and I am close friends with about 10 Americans/English and 1 German.

But I live alone.

There are a lot of ways to be alone in a foreign place. For instance, I am the only native English speaker for miles around. I am also the only one who has no idea what plastics are recyclable. I am the only one in Dinslaken that can make good chocolate chip cookies, and I am the only person who seems to lack an appreciation for the German delicacy of Spargel.

Living alone means doing a lot of stuff that I usually have help with. Eating dinner, watching TV, yelling at inanimate objects: these are all things that I have to do without the company of friends and family. It also means that I have to eat all of my fruit faster. Unfortunately, candy doesn't go bad, so there are no good excuses for over-eating there.

But its not all bad. Looking around the room, I have a good number of comforts that make time spent here pleasant. For example, I am quieted by the glow-in-the-dark paint-by-number running ponies on the wall across from my bed (Already provided by the landlords). As I drift off to sleep, I run with those ponies through the rushing waters of the American West. I also have a nice assortment of porcelain ducks and eggs that keep me company.


Another comforting aspect of living alone is the fact that I don't disappoint with failed dinner experiments. I've proudly made some pretty delicious meals with the meager choices at German grocery stores (for example, try to make THIS tasty), but I've also proudly made some of the most disgusting food I think ever created. There is one particular chicken dish I have in mind that couldn't even be saved with emergency, flavor saver, American BBQ sauce.

I also love the time I have to people watch. I have this great bay of windows facing a whole slew of back yards. These people have beautiful 10 foot high hedges keeping them safely hidden from passerbys, but little do they know! The bored, curious, and somewhat creepy American girl living alone has nothing better to do but to spy on their gardening techniques. I'll tell you what though, I met my match the other day when I saw an old dude gardening in his tighty whities.

I also get to see how people get their groceries home without cars. While I personally prefer the “hang everything from your bike and pray you make it home” technique, there's an entire family I love to see walking by once a week, grocery cart in tow. The boys skip alongside their mother, ready to stock up on about 10000 liters of water, 6 loaves of bread, and 25 kg of cheese. What a thought—walking to the store with your own personal grocery cart...if only!

As I get closer to the conclusion of this craziness, I am coming to realize how much I appreciate my position in society here. I have the unique opportunity to be an outsider, an observer of an entire culture. Being alone doesn't mean escaping or worrying, but it is a time to indulge in the anonymity that comes with such absolute foreign-ness. Never before have I found myself living the life of the lone wolf, looking out on the world with a (usually) thoughtful gaze, waiting for a new scent to lead me on my next adventure.