Too scared to be German

“The man who has confidence in himself gains the confidence of others.”
-Hasidic Saying

“Too Scared to be a German”

The only time I really felt like an outsider because of my language was when I went to Germany.  I know that this statement sounds redundant, but when I think about it, it is true.  I went to Germany as part of an exchange program in order, supposedly, to improve my spoken German.  I really enjoyed the trip, but I did not bond with the German students as much as many of my peers did.  The fault lies with my lack of confidence in my ability to speak German.  I can write very well, my grammar is decent as well as my vocabulary, but when asked to give my response orally I lose all confidence.  I prefer to say nothing so as not to appear ignorant.  While in Germany I often found myself thinking in German, but never talking.  If I was afraid of speaking German in front of my classmates I was terrified at the prospect of speaking with actual Germans.
I first realized my problem only a few days after our arrival.  My host student, Luisa, and some of her friends went to downtown Wiesbaden for a day of shopping after school and naturally I tagged along.  The girls paid little attention to me.  I mostly tagged along at the back of our small group; Luisa obsessively checking over her shoulder every five seconds to make sure I was still there.  We went in several clothes stores but I didn’t even bother looking; I had very little cash and did not want to waste it on clothes.  We also went to a jewelry store that gave me no enjoyment for the same reason as the clothes stores.  During this time the girls talked among themselves, mostly too fast for me to understand.  They did nothing to try and include me or to see if I understood.  I did nothing to try and include myself.  I was merely an observer.  
After a while, we, or I should say they, decided to get some food.  We went to a small bistro where I delved out some of my precious Euros to discover how horrible their chicken tasted.  We took our trays and went upstairs and found a cozy, lounge-like area with large cushions and low wicker tables.  While the girls chatted, I found myself analyzing the pattern of the wallpaper, the fact that none of the cushions matched, and general layout of the room.  It was at this point that I really noticed how much of an outsider I was.  To these girls I was just some shy girl from America whom chance had forced into their small group.
I did feel better later however, because one girl finally asked if I could understand their conversation to which I truthfully replied, a little bit.  Then their conversation turned to Naruto, an anime that is fairly popular here, but apparently not so in Germany.  One girl, whose name I remember to be Katja, asked if I had heard of Naruto and whether I liked it.  I can proudly say I managed to form an entire sentence in which I told her I did like it, but had not seen it much.  Katja was excited to meet someone who shared her interest because, judging by the several pairs of rolling eyes, it was an interest unshared be her friends.  Unfortunately at that point, the conversation turned to something else and I returned to my state of oblivion.  
When the others got bored of frivolous chatter we went back outside and continued walking around.  We didn’t visit any more stores, but we did get ice cream.  I am ashamed to say that this venture gave me quite a measure of trouble.  First of all, I did not know what the names of the flavors meant, nor did Luisa know the English word for them.  I played it safe and got three scoops, one of chocolate, one of vanilla, and one of strawberry.  When the worker told me my total I could not for the life of me figure out what he was saying.  Instead of doing the smart thing and handing him more money than it could have cost, I stared blankly at him and asked about ten times what he said.  He finally stopped a waitress and she told me my total.  Embarrassed, I handed over my money and left.  Not only did I feel like a complete outsider, but a stupid one at that.  And for all my trouble, the ice cream wasn’t even that good.
I find it ironic that I felt more accepted (for lack of a better term) by Luisa’s little brother, Moritz, and younger cousin, Loki, than I did with Luisa and her friends.  I played Clue, Trouble, and Guess Who with Moritz, the first two required no complete sentences and the last required only simple sentences.  I had little trouble with these and so felt more at home.  This was also true when we went to Luisa’s Grandmother’s house.  Luisa, Moritz, Loki and I played hide and go seek which required me to say nothing but the occasional curse when I was found due to my horrible hiding skills.  We also played Monopoly and it was good that Loki was there.  When I didn’t understand something he would explain it in German instead of struggling for the English word like Luisa.  (I am guessing this is because he knew little or no English.)
Even when the Americans and their hosts came together in a large group, I didn’t feel like I belonged.  The other Americans had bonded with the Germans while I remained aloof.  It also helped the others that they had all been good friends before they came on the trip.  I had hoped that I might become more acquainted with some of them, but the group’s existing dynamics left little room for me.  When we had the good-bye party there was a large group of everyone, then there was the group consisting of me and the two friends I had known before going on the trip.  That was how the trip went; everyone else and then our threesome.  We tried on a couple of occasions to integrate, but to no avail.  I believe the reason that everyone else bonded with the Germans was that they were not afraid to talk.  They tried their best and didn’t hold back.  I, on the other hand, was much more taciturn than usual and was not able to reach out and bond.  It was not the fact that I was American that made me an outsider, but my fear of trying to be something else.