Germany is famous for its rules and bureaucracy, and as you might guess, it’s a well-deserved reputation. There are even a lot of cultural ‘rules’ – not explicitly stated anywhere, but written all over German behavior. Matt and I tend to love most of these cultural norms – they’re logical, easy enough to follow, and they work because everyone follows them. No exceptions! For example, Germans will not cross a street unless they are at a crosswalk where the light signal is green. They will not do it. Doesn’t matter if it’s 6am on a Sunday and no traffic in any direction and it’s pouring rain and windy and the grocery store they are walking to is right across the street. They will stand there and stand there – expressionless, patient – until the light is green and then they will proceed. (did you catch my hidden test for you? a German wouldn’t be going to a grocery store on a Sunday because all stores are closed on Sundays!!!)

At first, I thought this was a hilarious practice to observe – I mean, if no cars are coming, why wait? But then I learned why they do this – it’s to keep kids safe. They know that kids pay attention to all adults, not just their parents, and kids are learning all the time what is OK or not OK. So Germans wait to cross the street because they want kids – all kids, not just their own – to learn to wait to cross the street. Many German norms are for reasons like this – to protect people in their community – without over-regulating, writing policy, or enforcing through police & lawyers.

But when it comes to the German bureaucracy, wowza. At first, navigating all of the various offices was kind of fun – hey, let’s make this Bureau of Immigration appointment an adventure! But after the 11th letter of correspondence with the Family Taxes Office, and the time we were nearly sent back to the US at the Frankfurt Airport Customs Office because there was an unchecked box on our ‘Outlander’ passes, it got a little old.

I am happy to report, though, that one of the last immigration ‘to-do’ items on our list – obtaining our German drivers’ licenses – was a raging success. Getting these was probably one of the greatest achievements of my life, because this is the sign they post on the front door of the Licensing Bureau:

Yes, that’s right, the sweet but stern German ladies working at the License Bureau are happy enough to help you, if you can do the entire thing in German. So – we did! I’m telling you, the past 9 months of Duolingo, podcasts, German magazines, Childrens’ books, online courses, and in-person classes were all worth it for this one moment of triumph. Here is that glorious result:

The one thing they don’t tell you, though (or maybe they did tell me, but my head-nod-and-smile trick for when I don’t understand the German worked too well), is that in order for them to hand you your German driver’s license, you must surrender your US driver’s license. Wha? That didn’t seem right. How in the hell am I going to get another Ohio license when we get back? So I asked, in my kindest, gentlest, most polite German: “May I please ask you a question, ma’am, if you don’t mind, if you please, would it be OK if I could perhaps maybe please have that US driver’s license back, or maybe a copy, please, if you would be OK with that, thank you, please, thank you?”

To which this stern German lady responded:

“Nein!”

And then she burst out laughing, uproariously, with all of her German colleagues in the back office, all sharing this great joke at our expense. There was nothing to do, but to start laughing ourselves.