englishman abroad, work

I’ve only got one pair of hands

Last December we bought a house. It was originally built in 1949 and there’s a fair bit of renovation to do as you might expect with such an old place. So far, all of the electrics have been stripped out and replaced, two of the outbuildings (a large aviary and a small god-knows-what) have been knocked down and smashed up and then taken away by my very enthusiastic father in law and his gigantic hydraulic truck. The wallpaper is being stripped off and pasted up anew in record time and a new bathroom is being fitted upstairs, this latter part required a couple of new walls and digging up the driveway to find the mains sewer (old house!). These have been our weekends and several of my afternoons per week: DIY and liaison with handymen. The mornings are my usual work with the MariLANG project and my teaching duties at Jade. These teaching duties are about to double because my class has doubled in size since last semester. Things are going to pay off after all this work is done.

Earlier this week I was once again in the UK as part of the MariLANG project, this time for our 5th transnational partner meeting which went really well! This time we were in Kenilworth, a place I’d never been before. It has a palpable aura of sleepy little town in Warwickshire, because that’s pretty much exactly what it is. Jennie, a very hard working colleague from Greece, made a short video of the meeting which I’ll post here:

Anyway, all of this zipping about, DIY, teaching and general business has meant I’ve neglected this blog for far too long. Here’s hoping I can grow another pair of hands.

englishman abroad, history

German Guilt

On Monday, we were at a good friend’s barbecue and I got talking to her father, who has recently retired. He told me a little about what it was like growing up in post-war Germany and travelling abroad as a German. He was one of the first young Germans who went to France on a trip with the German Boy Scouts. One day he was trekking through rural France on a hot summer’s day when his troop happened upon a farm, they approached and asked the farmer for permission to draw water from their well. What do you think happened next?

If you answered ‘They were chased from the property by vengeful French farmers with pitchforks’ then yes, you are correct. It sounds funny, but this young man was not yet even a teenager. A couple of days prior, I had spoken with a Dutch woman who told me about the day she learned about The Indonesian War of Independence at school, and the bad things that her grandfather had supposedly done during the conflict. Both conversations centred on historical guilt. Both conversations put me in mind of British and American attitudes to history.

Many Americans and Britons are proud of their countries’ role in WW2, despite their respective nuclear weapons and indiscriminate bombing. America is very proud of its history and its struggle for independence from the British, and Britain is still somewhat fond of its old empire. After all, we still have awards like the OBE (Officer of the Most Excellent Order of the British Empire) and the history of our royal family is interwoven with empire.

Although there is much to be proud or ashamed of in any country’s history, my own thoughts are more ambivalent. Why do Germans still feel guilty about the Nazis? It wasn’t them! Why do Britons harp on about a non-existent empire? It’s long gone! Look at what is happening to the proud countries now: America elected Trump and Britain is leaving the EU. It seems that both places are living in the past. As for Germany, deeply ashamed of its past, it rebuilt and reinvented itself as an economic powerhouse. Looking forwards, not backwards, seems to be the key.

Next week I am on holiday in Tenerife, so there might not be a blog post. Hopefully I won’t get lost, approach a farmhouse and be chased into the sea by  vengeful French expats.

englishman abroad, politics


People sometimes ask me about what I think of Brexit and this week was no exception. This week The United Kingdom began the process of leaving the European Union.

I wanted Britain to remain in the European Union and would have voted accordingly, but the electoral office in Scotland, where I used to live, lost my application.

After all, I live in Germany, I work here, I have a family and friends here, my daughter is half German. It’s in my own, selfish interest that The UK stay part of the EU. Now, with article 50 triggered, my future looks uncertain. Will I require a visa? Should we stay in Germany or go to Britain? Is that a choice I am in an informed position to make? What’s best for my family? Where are the jobs? Where is my future?

Brexit has certainly raised more questions than it has answered.

But on referendum day I understood why my countrymen had voted to leave. Every year the UK pays a lot of money into the EU, every year the EU tells the UK what laws to follow, who it can trade with, who can enter and leave.

The EU seems to make a  lot of sense for the poorer countries, but richer ones?

The UK wants a different future to that of the EU. The EU seeks to unite Europe under a common flag, anthem, currency, court, parliament, law… it all sounds very noble. Maybe it is, but we are not all the same.

Take healthcare. A publicly-insured German can expect to pay several hundred euros per month for medical care (over 15% of their income). If they require treatment they might have to pay a deductible. Medicine, prescriptions, examinations, advice and appointments, everything seems to cost just a little bit extra.

A Briton can go to hospital for free. See their doctor for free. Get medicine for £8.40 rather than hundreds of pounds. Now imagine having to extending that privilege to every single person who comes to the UK through EU law.

The EU is a big government making big decisions…

It seems to make a lot of sense for the big people, but the little ones?