Fernweh

Fernweh seems to be a uniquely German concept.  I should actually rather say that there is no word in English for it-  and I don’t speak any other language well enough to know whether a good translation exists.  Still, it is sort of a weltschmerz, gestalt, weltanschauung type of word – somehow it makes sense in the context of all things German.

Fernweh on my mind, pic: zazzle.com

The closest translation in English, ironically, is another German word: wanderlust.  The fact that this is the closest “English” translation, does not mean it is a good one.  Fernweh is a yearning  to be someplace else – the polar opposite of Heimweh or homesickness (funny how there is a pretty good word for this in English).  And therefore it differs from wanderlust which indicates more of a desire to travel, to see the world, have adventures.

The two words are sort of like hunger and appetite.  As in “hunger for life” and “appetite for adventure” – one a deep rooted desire, part and parcel of a person and the other more capricious, more of a mood.

Saying that the word is uniquely German does not mean that the concept is not found in other places.  In fact, I think Fernweh is one of the essential characteristics of an expat.  As long as I can think I wanted to be somewhere else.  I always waned to go on vacation and never did I want to return.  I never was homesick a day in my life.  Wherever I went I (almost) always (there are always exceptions, like Paris in my case, believe it or not) thought I could live there, in fact, have a better live there than at home.

Weird, though, how this kind of loops back on itself when you live somewhere else for a long time and what used to be home becomes the “Ferne” – the distant place.  Now I sometimes find myself  – longingly – thinking of my hometown in Germany – and for the life of me can’t figure out whether it is Fernweh or Heimweh.

Once you are gone …, part 2

I argued before that after 10 years (or so) one doesn’t belong to the place where on came from anymore but somehow 10 years (or so) aren’t enough to truly belong where one moved to either.  This, too, is sad but true.

When I moved to Boston in 1997 I felt I belonged within three days.  Almost 15 years later, I know I never will.  I can’t quite say why or how that is, just that it is a fact.  In school I belonged because we all somehow did through our shared experience but later I realized that I am not an American, never will be and that this will set me apart forever.  Despite 15 years here, 12 in the Bay Area (admittedly more than many Americans spend here) I am lacking the cultural background and experiences people who grew up here share.  Sounds trivial?  Maybe, but somehow it is important to be able to talk about the girl scout days, that TV show in the 70s, and crack those jokes so much based in the culture of a country that I can learn, but never truly understand – or pull off.

I can simply not speak about my cheer-leading days not just because I never was a cheerleader (which I wouldn’t have been) but also because something even remotely like cheer-leading simply did not exist (and still doesn’t to the best of my knowledge whatever that is worth these days), not did homecoming or formal dances.  I wore my first long gown at the wedding of an – American – friend in LA.   I can of course, crack jokes about Star Trek – but only in German as I have hardly seen any episodes in English (and my English is very good, if I do say so myself, so it is not lack of vocabulary).

Where does that leave me – an observer, an astute one able to learn but still an observer.

So maybe that is just who I am, an observer, somebody who doesn’t really belong anywhere and for that reason might be the perfect person to live in the Bay Area, a place where most people who live here didn’t grow up and therefore don’t belong.  maybe the sense of not belonging makes us kindred spirits.

This realization makes me nervous about spending a year in German, what if I really don’t belong there and find few people who likewise don’t belong.  I guess, we’ll see.