When I visited Munich in 2010, I instantly enrolled myself into a course at DeutschAkademie. The reason was simple- I am a lacto- vegetarian (someone who eats dairy but no meat and eggs) and I could not figure out which of the products had egg or meat in it. For example, it was only here I realized that not all cheeses are vegetarian: some like Parmesan have rennet that is derived from the intestine of a cow. I wanted to ensure that whatever I was eating was indeed vegetarian even though I am not extremely staunch, but I prefer as far as possible, in fact, going out of my way to stick to being a vegetarian. In India, there is a law that states that all food products must have either a green dot to indicate that they are lacto-vegetarian, or have a brown dot to indicate that they are not. But in Germany, due to lack of such a convenience, learning German was essential to ensuring that I could stick to my preferences.

7 years later, I am trying to be a Vegan and also eat as healthy as possible (which translates to eating minimal processed foods, avoid processed sugar and hidden sugar alternatives, eat “Vollkorn” or whole foods along with managing my macros and micros effectively. But if I have changed, so has Germany! I have noticed a stark change in the labelling of food products. Almost every restaurant (not just the Italian ones) including those in small sleepy villages, make sure to offer at least 2 vegetarian dishes on their menu. There is an entire Vegan section at most supermarkets. There are products certified by the Vegetarian society of Germany and quite a few products have markings “vegetarian” or “Vegan” on them. There is no dearth of plant based yoghurts and milks and there are ample “fake meat” alternatives available made of soya or wheat protein. I see ads of smartphone apps offering tips and recipes to Vegan starters at underground stations. Of course the fact that I can now read labels better thanks to my improved German helps me make better food choices too!

Although I still get confused with regards to eiweiß as sometimes it means egg-whites and sometimes protein, that’s when I need to read the fine print in the “zutaten”!

When I visited Munich for the 1^st time in 2010, one of things I noticed immediately that Germans have quite a conservative and binary wardrobe of black and white (with some 50 shades of grey thrown in between – pun not intended). Of course, all my 3 visits have been in winter, so it’s likely that the winter wardrobe, and not the entire wardrobe of Germans, resembles quite a bit like the landscape of a white winter. And even if you see colours, it is muted beiges and earthly browns and sometimes you manage to see a speck of red and purple which also is found only in female wardrobes.

Even children’s wardrobes are quite predictable: Shades of pink for the baby girls and shades of blue for the baby boys, not to forget the greys of course- for whoever prefers to be a little gender neutral (plus red and purple for the girls as is the case with the adults!)

Since I am from India, where both genders wear bright yellows, greens, blues, oranges, reds- not just in clothes but also in accessories such as bangles and turbans and combine hues like magenta and royal blue quite elegantly, my wardrobe during my first visit consisted mainly of these vibrant colour combinations and I stood out like a sore thumb on the streets or Christmas Markets of Munich and often felt awful because I was unable to blend in.

So can someone enlighten me: why don’t Germans wear colours?

Pragya

Last year I went for a walking tour of Munich with a Pakistani friend, and amongst the 20+ people who came for the tour was a condescending British lady who, after every 5 minutes, managed to find an opportunity to exclaim loudly about what a dark history Germany has had and about how “it’s unimaginable that people were so insensitive to humanity!”. She emphasized repeatedly how much she was looking forward to see the concentration camps and the holocaust museums. After about 1.5 hours of tolerating her, the guide (as well as the entire group) was naturally a little fed up with her constant patronizing attitude. So he mentioned politely how “that’s why we teach our history to children quite early on in school, so that they never forget and as a country we never repeat it!”

“Yes, unlike some other countries!” – I instinctively added to his statement and my Pakistani friend and I burst into laughter, as did the entire group! The guide smiled as well (he was too polite to laugh openly), pointed at us and suggested: “Maybe you would like to have a discussion with India and Pakistan about some British History in South Asia in the break?”

The woman flustered, visibly embarrassed, and sealed her lips thereafter, much to the relief of the entire group!

Moral of the story: People who live in glass houses should not throw stones at others! Introspection is an important part of growth and Germans are doing a great job of it!

Pragya

The last time I visited Munich (in October 2017), it was autumn. Englischer Garten was beautiful with myriad colours of fall. The little pond in the garden- the one with ducks- looked like a resplendent painting. Leaves rustled under my feet as I walked; their crackling sound a natural stress buster. During the afternoon, the sun shone on this collage of colours, brightening them up further. And when this entire picture was reflected by the small water pond, I could swear that I have never seen a more perfect landscape.

But this time around, with the entire garden snowed down, I witnessed a completely different picture- a monochrome one but definitely equally fascinating. When I was a kid, my art teacher would specifically instruct the class- “Never use the colour white when painting landscapes.” I don’t know where he is now, but if I could locate him, I would share this picture with him: Snow covered tree branches, a half frozen lake and black ducks swimming happily in it. Maybe, he would change his mind!!

The ducks in the pond, however, were oblivious to either weather. Their only focus being “food”, they jumped up to the shore, consistently and irrespective of seasons, quacking loudly and obliging the people who were throwing crumbs at them. I looked at them and thought about how many of us are like these ducks: worried only about material things, so much so that we miss the beauty of nature offers us season after season.

So, which out of these is your favourite season and why?

Pragya