10:32 p.m. - July 05, 2002
One is silver, and the other gold
It's getting closer to my departure date, and it's scaring me. I seem to have acquired an insane amount of books and notes, most of which I must ship home. Normally, that wouldn't be a problem, but the post office loves to chare an arm and a leg for everything. It is making me sad and more stressed out.

Not just mailing things home, but packing, leaving. Getting ready to end one part of my life and to go back to where I have spent most of my life. I think I'm leaving a bit of myself here (not just the books I'm giving to my German friends) but this part of me that belongs here, the part that knows the city, the part that knows the best places to go shopping, the part that knows where to go eat, the part that grins when she understands the regional dialect.

The other part I leave behind, which I realized today, is that there are people here who will most definetely miss me. I didn't really think about it till today -- I went to meet a German friend of mine, Gudrun, for coffee/ice cream today, and we spent three hours together, just talking and walking around Amalienstrasse afterward. She gave me a belated birthday gift (a collection of short stories) and an envelope of photographs, as well as a card. At the end of our short walk through Amalienstrasse and Amalienpassage, we said goodbye, and I looked at here and she looked like she was about to cry.

At that point, I sort of realized that someone here did -- or rather, does -- care about me. In a way, it made me feel good, because I've accomplished one of my goals: make a German friend before my year was over. The other part of me felt bad that I'd be leaving a friend over here in Europe, even though I'd be returning to my own friends back home. One thing I do have to say is that making friends in Germany is harder than it is in the United States -- I don't know if you know that or not, but friendship is seen very differently, and is taken much more seriously. It takes a longer time for people to become friends, but once you have a German friend, you have one for life. So that is good. I think I may have three other friends. Not sure, though--the American definition of "friend" seems to be quite different than the German definition. I have a lot of acquaintances, whom I hope will become friends in the future (I think at least two of them will.)

That is, a friend in Germany is like a best friend in the US. A "friend" (not a best friend) in the US is like an acquaintance in Germany. Markus (who may or may not be a friend) told me "Americans are really good at being nice to people, even if they hate their guts. If Germans don't like people, we don't talk to them."

Actually, it took me about four months to start making friends. Since last fall, I've actually been evaluating what I consider "friendship" and in some weird way, I've actually been starting to think of some people as "friends" and some as "acquaintances." I think it's going to be really weird for me to go back home and call everyone my "friend" even if they, by the definitions I've been living by this year, are not.

Emily, the Fulbrighter who lives in my dorm, told me that one of the other Fulbrighters in Munich was not happy because she only had one other friend -- an American (yes, another Fulbrighter). She didn't try to find German friends -- she complained that no one wanted to talk to her. Here's the reality check: In Germany, one must pester people, keep on their tails ("So, do you want to go for coffee? Beer? A movie? Something?") incessantly, until they relent. Eventually, they may think of you as a friend. I'm surprised that Kate (the unhappy one) didn't learn that, cause she has lived in Germany before when she was in high school.

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