I finally was desperate enough to brave the culture shock that the dreaded Safeway had in store for me. I had been avoiding the huge american stores that have bright lights and bad music for as long as I could, waiting outside while my aunt went to Boullineaus, staying in the car while my dad went to Safeway, and going to Whole Foods even though it's a much farther walk. But finally, since 3 people go through tissues a lot faster than one person or even two people do, and it was already getting to be nighttime, and the 2 people I live with both had class or plans, I was the only one who could go to Safeway and get what we needed. I entered Safeway and nearly felt a panic attack coming on. I shielded my eyes from the bright lights and tried to drown out the terrible music as much as possible. But within a few seconds, I was able to go down the aisles in search of what I needed. And I was rewarded along the way. I found Ritter-Sport chocolates, my favorite, the marzipan-filled one. While I was buying it, the cashier asked "how are these, anyway?" indicating the chocolate. I replied with an enthusiastic "they're delicious!"

And because I am volunteering at the study-abroad fair next week (I know that's lame, but it gives me an excuse to talk about Germany), I am going to get a bunch of Ritter-Sport chocolates to use as treats for people who stop by our table.

I have been neglecting this blog for the past week, and have not yet mentioned that I am learning French. There are several reasons for this.

1- I spent some time visiting Geneva and France during my time in Germany

2- If I learn French, I can talk to my dad and my sister Lily at the same time without having to say everything twice (because even though the English boycott was not as successful as I had hoped, I am still not speaking English with my family).

and 3- Because learning a language is fun, and I have often wished I could speak French, and Horatio Hornblower, one of my literary heroes, saves people a bunch of times because he is the only one who speaks French.

I went to the French club last night because they were showing a French movie, and that sounded interesting to me. I was able to introduce myself to people in French, but that was about it, and I had to speak English once they asked me stuff besides who I am and what i'm studying. Such as when I talked to a girl who also transferred here from my old University where I spent my first year. She said she hated it, and I told her that was funny because I loved it but had to leave when they cut my major (German).

This morning was the farmer's market. I had almost forgotten all about it, but after I woke up and ate breakfast, I suddenly exclaimed to my roommate "Today is the farmer's market!"

I went to the market and bought some strange things like pickled carrots, and when I finally found the salmon vendor, the guy remembered me. I was pretty surprised, since I have been gone for over a year, and i'm not a super rememberable person.

Situations in which I had to speak English:

-Cashier at Safeway

-French club

-Farmer's market

English boycott: day [insert number here because I forgot and am too lazy to count]

Yesterday, I had an appointment with the eye doctor. I didn't have to speak English with him, because he speaks Farsi. I did also manage to talk to the assistant people without speaking English. One of the assistants mentioned that she is from Norway and she learned a little bit of German in school, so when she asked me how long I had been in Germany, I answered in German and she understood me. After the appointment, I tried on some new glasses frames just in case I liked any of them better than the glasses i've had since I was 15. I did not need words to communicate with the assistant who was helping me with it, because between her and me and my dad, all we needed was shaking of heads and weird face expressions to show how much none of us liked the way any of the frames looked on me. When I put my own glasses back on, the girl said "I like those the best!"

Today, my dad convinced me to speak English for my doctor's appointment. I agreed, because once I got there, and the doctor asked me all kinds of questions about my health, there was simply no way I could have written all of my answers on paper. After the appointment, my dad said something (in English, because he is not forbidden from speaking English like I am), and I replied in English before even noticing. I suddenly said "oh crap!" and my dad said "what?" thinking something was wrong or I had forgotten to tell the doctor something, to which I replied "i'm speaking English!" and I right away switched back to German.

In Germany, every time I talked to myself, I spoke German without even realizing it. Upon arriving in the US, however, I have not talked to myself in German without noticing, even once. Unfortunately, even with how seldom (read: hardly ever) I have been speaking English, every time I start talking to myself without noticing, it is always in English.

After the doctor's appointment, my dad and I ate at a buffet restaurant. When the person at the counter asked me what I wanted to drink, I said "Wasser." The guy kept looking at me like I hadn't said anything, so my dad told him "she wants water." I thought for sure "Wasser" would be pretty easy to understand. It sounds just like "Water." I know no one would understand I wanted water if I said "ob" (Farsi) or "mizu" (Japanese). But I thought "Wasser" would be pretty obvious, almost as obvious as the meaning of "Regenbogen" is.

Now that I have spent forever talking about not speaking English and how strange it is to hear people speak English, I will talk about a few other aspects of reverse culture shock.

I bet that before I went to Germany, I would have considered this food ok for consumption. But as it is, i took one bite of each thing and lost my apetite. The cafeteria in Konstanz was better than this! I usually eat everything on my plate, and I can't even remember the last time I left even a crumb on a plate (if my sister or I ever left a plate on the table or somewhere, my dad always knew whose it was, because it would look clean if it was mine, and still have some crumbs on it if it was my sister's), so it was a big event for me to have almost all of the food still on my plate when I was done. It will be very easy to lose the 10 pounds the doctor told me today was extra, because all I have to do when I get hungry is look at some food and think about how bland it is.

I should also mention an event which happened the other day that I still don't know the cause of. My mother and I were out and she suggested going to the mall to buy new pants, because my pants all have holes in them. When we got there, got out of the car and were about to enter the mall, i suddenly said "I want to go home" (in Farsi of course). My mom said "why now all of a sudden? we just got here?" I said "I don't know, I want to go home." My mom started asking all sorts of questions. She asked "did you see someone? did you see something? did you remember something?" I said "no, I just want to go home." If I had allowed myself to speak English, I would have said "do I need a reason?"

By then, I was crying uncontrollably, so my mom had no choice but to take me home. The consensus between my friends and family members and I is that it is culture shock related. However, I really don't know what it was that made me freak out just because I was about to go into a mall. I suppose I will have to suffer from hole-y pants that I have to keep sewing up, until i am able to go into a mall or a store and buy new ones.