When most people think of northern Germany in winter, or northern Europe for that matter, they think, cold, grey, wet, grey, depressing, grey, bleak, grey and more grey.
They wouldn’t be wrong.
In fact, one of the things that has dramatically changed in my life since I moved to Berlin six years ago from the DC suburbs is the weather, or more specifically, the dictatorial role it plays in my life and in those around me.
First of all, it dominates conversation: To talk about the weather, so to speak, is not to talk about the weather. It is a serious topic of conversation here, one full of hope and despair and extreme earnestness. It peppers almost every conversation I have with friend, acquaintance, shop clerk and colleague. “Can you believe it is so cold today” asks one friend in disbelief echoing countless others. “I am so depressed, I just need some sun,” says another, lamenting a bashful sun that hasn’t put in an appearance in weeks. “I want out of here to …(fill in with Egypt, Kenya, the Seychelles).”
It also rules mood: People get sick, depressed, work slower and are decidedly grumpier. It is no accident that southern cultures are known for being (and actually are) more cheerful and chatty. In Berlin, this grumpiness even has a name: Berliner Schnauze.
It lords over lifestyle and habits, too: People go out less, plan more carefully and contemplate excursions across town as if they were transcontinental trips. People, including myself, also obsessively check weather reports. That is new for me. And I don’t only check one either: I shop around for those with the best prognoses.
More personally, there has been a corresponding revolution in my apparel.
When I moved to Minnesota after a year in New York in 1997, my new colleagues bet that “East Coast girl” would eventually succumb to hats, snow boots and parkas. They would be wrong.
These days, after years of holding out, I live in snow boots and have a permanent case of hat-head (no parka yet).
Worse still, I suddenly found myself this New Year’s Eve eschewing my traditional black tie apparel and donning a silk dress with – wool stockings, a sweater and snow boots. I looked in the mirror and wondered, ‘What has happened to me?!’
Berlin did, that’s what.
This winter has been particularly unusual: It snowed early and a lot. That brought a new beauty to the grey and with it a whole new set of problems: Subways stopped working; snow was left unshoveled on streets and sidewalks (it still is weeks later); and Germany reportedly ran out of sand.
And I have realised why, since landing in Germany, the weather affects me so much: I was pretty insulated from it in Washington – I had a car. These days, I have a bike I can’t ride and a rainbow assortment of coats and gloves, the mother of all scarves and snow boots I would like to burn.
Regardless, I have come to some conclusions as to how people can (and do) survive these long nasty winters without losing their minds. Here are my tips:
- Make your surroundings hyggelig (the Danish concept of cozy and warm) with bright colours and candles and things that sparkle. I am on ebay perusing gas fireplaces as I write.
- Eat lovely, tasty and very fattening foods (at least once a week): Treat yourself to schnitzels, hearty venison goulash and all those wonderful northern European specialties that just don’t work (for me) on a warm summer day.
- Laugh, not cry when the temperature is slated to dip below – 21 Celsius. There isn’t much else you can do. Remember, it will feel positively balmy when it hits – 2 Celsius again.
Berlin: Spree on February 2010 (Kreuzberg district)
- Start naming the many shades of grey you are now able to identify.
- Find some lovable Siberian huskies to take you on a sleigh ride in Tiergarten (or to hug).
- Go to a sauna: Sweat out that bad mood before immersing yourself into frigid water. Germans think it makes your immune system stronger. Regardless, you will never feel more awake in your life.
- Drink those tasty hot wine drinks spiked with strong schnapps. Then you too can stand outside in the Arctic temperatures and chat merrily along in comfort.
- And, if all else fails, take advantage of one of the best reasons to live in northern Europe: It is easy to get out… North Africa isn’t very far…and it is a sure thing.
JB/Expatica
Text size
Is the cold and damp of northern Europe getting you down? You aren’t alone. Our blogger offers some commiseration and some coping tips.
Twitter
LinkedIn
Facebook
Google+
0
