Veiling the world in English mystery

I have been back in Germany for some time now, and after well over five years abroad, there have been a couple of things that I had to re-adjust to. 

One of them has been that Germans really, really like the English language, especially when it's about marketing and advertising and product names. It's not always necessary for those words to really be English words - as long as they look it, the assumption is that customers will just accept the modern and innovative aura that English is supposed to lend to the product. And the hope also seems to be that English will create some kind of semantic distance between the word and its actual meaning (because it's not perceived as unusual to use a foreign name for something you're trying to sell) so there is much less of a need to really have any meaning behind your text.

In many cases, this happens when someone is too lazy to think of an interesting way of saying something dull - hey, an English word will make it sound like so much more than it really is! 

An example: You have a big German chain of supermarkets and decide you want to introduce some pricier products in addition to the cheaper food you already sell under your supermarket's brand name. And one of those luxury foods is French cheese. You sit down and think about how to make your customers understand at a glance that this product is worth the higher price. What do you do? Exactly: You take the French cheese, which has been produced in France and packaged for sale in your German supermarket, and inexplicably write "Finest French Cheese" on it. In English. Twice. You still write the actual product description in German, just to be sure people know what they will find inside. You probably fear that not enough customers will read French well enough, so English is a perfect compromise to take your product way beyond plain Käse.

And, continuing to explain my point in supermarket logic: What if you have a product that everybody wants, yet nobody likes to truly think about? Like toilet paper?

In Ireland, I was quite fascinated to see that apparently, Irish people like to imagine cleaning themselves with soft, furry animals. You even have a choice of polar bears, kittens and puppies - even though I must say I question the wisdom of rubbing my behind against a polar bear, even while he appears to be asleep. Kittens also have a lot of pointy ends. But fluffy things are definitely nicer to think about than digestive products.

Germans don't have to come up with anything fluffy - distraction from digestion is so much easier when you just have to write something English on the packaging! (This also illustrates quite well that Germans aren't too orderly when it comes to adopting English words: "Happy End" is generally accepted as the official German translation of "happy ending".)

I would really like to know how the meeting went when this product name was agreed on. "What do you usually associate with a visit to the toilet? A beautiful meal reaching its happy ending? Yes, sums up our product perfectly!"

Ireland in a nutshell #2

One fundamental difference between German and Irish culture is in the choice of clothes. In Germany, people feel embarrassed when they think they might be overdressed. In Ireland, not being sufficiently dressed up would be a far bigger concern.(*)

Fashion values also differ greatly: A German woman is likelier to think "Oh! My outfit today is wonderfully practical!" - something that might make the average Irish lady shudder. It does explain, however, why you can always pick out German tourists in the crowd because even during city trips, they are ready to face the great outdoors at any time. Their jackets will resist any weather condition, and boast astounding vapor permeability of the material so the wearer won't break a sweat even in the heaviest rain. In the extreme form, Germans carry walking sticks (and no, Dublin isn't known for its mountainous cityscape) and two liter water bottles in the mesh side pockets of their hiking backpack (because shops with beverages might be a rare luxury in a European capital) - unless their backpack has an integrated drinking system: Dehydration will be no reason for worry during their leisurely stroll around Trinity college.

There is a variation on the German outdoor tourist look: There is also a certain kind of Ireland tourist who is less interested in preparing for (urban) nature than in a fuzzy idea of ancient, mysterious, profound Celtic culture. This group is likelier to wear clothes that look mildly medieval, fairly traded and hand-woven, karma-free and felted by moonlight to the tune of a pan flute. They may come with an attitude of more-Irish-than-thou, or may just wander about mumbling about shamrocks and fairies.

In contrast to both, Irish women, when pleased with their attire, will think more in terms of "I look absolutely fabulous!" - shoes will be high-heeled, not comfortable, and dresses as short as possible. During the day, "comfortable" wear may consist of a candy-coloured tracksuit combined with big hair and eyeliner. (German tracksuit wearers are less common, and far less likely to match top and bottom. Irish fashion usually demands wearing the suit as an ensemble.)
At night, all unnecessary material will be dropped to reveal as much fake tan as possible. The picture above is a selection of average evening wear for a regular night of drinks with friends - and it is not, as the sensibly shoed German may assume, a shop that specializes in circus artist attire. There is also no direct connection between body shape and weight and choice of dress: Tight is good. Short is good. For everyone. (As a rule of thumb, every German lady who hears that she looks "fabulous!" will turn around and run to cover herself up.)


(*) Except when going to the supermarket in the morning. I can't imagine many Germans would go buy their milk in their pyjamas.

Ireland in a nutshell #1

2.5 years in this country, not enough blog posts. That needs to change! Right now:

One of the first things I noticed here is a job that is immensely popular in Irish shopping streets but that I had never seen elsewhere: Holding up signs. 

It's a bit unusual that this guy has a multi-purpose sign for three shops - a symptom of the crisis, maybe? - because usually, it is one person per sign and one sign per shop. And usually they stand around in groups, blocking pedestrian traffic and chatting with other sign holders - because their job is just to make sure the sign is upright. Their job description does not include encouraging people to visit the shops. Because that's the sign's job.