Today, I pushed a little outside my comfort zone. I walked a few blocks down the street on which we live (Nauheimergasse), and entered several shops. I actually began a conversation with a shop keeper (sprechen sie English?). He replied with a very welcome word...."yes".
Sigh of relief, back to English to ask how to buy an international stamp with which to send Susan a post care. I paid with Euros, and got my change.
"Danke"
"Bitte Shon"
"Auf wiedersein"
"Auf wiedersein"
Bravely exciting, right! Maybe not to you, but this is MY blog. :-)
Side note: There are no bills smaller than a 5 euro note. You will receive 1 and / or 2 euro coins in change. The bills and coins are different sizes increasing in size from smallest to largest. A 100 Euro note is about the size of a regular envelope and the 5 is the size of (and looks like) Monopoly money. The locals won't take US dollars and many have never seen them. The exchange rate is about $1.35 US to 1 euro.
I showed the $100 bill to some of our players. They asked why Franklin was on the largest bill when he wasn't even president and that Washington was the father of his country, the first president, and on just the one dollar bill. I had no viable answer.
But I digress.
I then walked to a grocery store called "Penny Markt" As I was struggling to understand even one label, I heard a dog barking. Inside the store somewhere. When I arrived at the check out, I see this small, scruffy dog tied onto a railing just inside the store. I assume it wasn't allowed in the store proper, but it was allowed inside the door to wait for its master to shop.
From outside a bar/restaurant, I have also observed dogs sitting in the booth with their masters. Good for dog-friendly Austria.
I returned to our house as a car was exiting our gasse (similar to a cul-de-sac; only much tighter quarters). An older gentleman waved, stopped, and hesitantly got out smiling a pensive and inquisitive smile. He extended his hand and said through the international language of gestures and speaking in one-word attempts, we established that his name was Hans. It was also established that my name was "Leeen" and that I was a futbol Amerikaner trainer. With broken English, he explained that the trash can I had set in front of our house (and directly across the narrow road/alley from his house was supposed to go out further onto the main street and that it was a day early. It was to go out to be picked up on Freitag (Friday) not Donnerstag.
My bad.
"Danke Schon"
"Bitte Schon"
We exchanged "nice to meet you" and I scurried back into the safety of my newly Americanized fortress and felt pretty darn satisfied with the first foray into a foreign (no pun intended) world.
I know this is not the gripping, investigative reporting to compare with the Fox news network or the like, but when you are in the stage where baby steps are necessary, this is the first step.
When I figure out how to post pictures, I will post them.
Danke Schon
Auf Weidersein
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