A Fundamental Flaw -- Munich, Germany

I'm starting this post from the largest public library in Munich. I don't remember which floor I'm on, but it's big enough to forget which floor I'm on. Being in a library like this with all the students tiredly, disinterestedly flipping through textbooks and typing away on laptops makes me reminisce and miss my years at university.

I just want to be a student again. For always.

I left my former host's house this morning at 10:30. The excessively considerate, touchy-feely man gave me a CD, a card and some aloe vera lotion for my feet.

"With all that walking you will do in Rome, I'm sure you can use this."

"I'm sure I can! My feet will be thankful for you after every big walk. And I'll let you know how that gelato is."

So he drove to his office and I settled into the couch to research Rome and Naples and do a bit of writing. I still had a few hours to burn before I met with my next host at 11:30 and it felt good to get some work done.

Look at me juggling stuff. Win. 

Munich!

• Capital of Bavaria
• Located on the river Isar
• The name is derived from the word "Munichen" -- which has something to do with being in the general vicinity of monks
• Has been in existence since at least 1158
• 1/3 or the population perished during the bubonic plague in 1635
• Was bombed 3 times during WW1
• In 1919, extreme political unrest resulted in the murder of Kurt Eisner and the rise of communism. 
• In 1923, severe political unrest resulted in Hitler, Nazis and Dachou (the first concentration camp). In fact, Munich was so important to the Nazis that it was called the "Hauptstadt der Bewegung", or "Capital of the Movement". 
• The Nazi party was born in the world's most famous beer house -- Hofbrauhaus
• Was hit by 71 air raids during WW2 and the majority of the city was destroyed
• Was rated as the world's 5th most livable city in 2012!
• Has a Sandeman free tour! If you're in Munich, do it. I'll be meeting my guide under his/her red umbrella by the large column in Marienplatz at13:00 today.
• Is heavily populated by Turks and Balkans and a smattering of Italians. As an overwhelming majority of Bavarian men were killed during the war (Hitler sent them to the front lines, the lucky fellows), there were too few remaining locals to help rebuild the city. So they caled in their neighbors, and their neighbors became attached to the Bavarian way of life (Bavarian way of drinking) and decided to stay. I like this particular confluence of cultures because it makes the food very rich and flavorful.
•  Munich is much more catholic and conservative than other German cities. The large ones, anyway. 
• Is home of Englischer Garten, one of the world's largest city parks. That also boasts a nudist area. 
• Hosts Oktoberfest from mid-September until the first Sunday of October every year. I'm still confused as to the reason Oktoberfest is celebrated in September.
• Famous for its six breweries

1. Lowenbrau
2. Hofbrauhaus
3. Augistinerbrau
4.  Paulaner
5. Hacker-Pschorr
6. Spaten

• Has the strongest economy in all of Germany and the lowest unemployment rate. 
• Is the beer capital of the world. The average Bavarian consumes 250 liters of beer a year -- men, women and children included. 

I arrived at Martin's (after nearly an hour of trudging through busy streets with my overstuffed bags) sixteen minutes before we'd scheduled to meet, so I decided to walk for seven minutes in one direction and seven minutes back, thereby making myself two minutes early.

Sometimes I feel fundamentally German. In my bones. Being on time gives me far too much joy. 

Martin lives in a gorgeous area of Munich. It's artsy, old, original, fun.

This is what I expected Munich to be. 

After ringing the bell at 11:28, my new host greeted me with a handshake (rather than a hug -- for which I was grateful given my previous experience) and led me up one short flight of stairs to his apartment. Just like the surrounding area, it's old, original and just a little maze-like. The apartment is also an art gallery, so it's composed of his bedroom, his Spanish flatmate's bedroom, a meeting area, the bathroom, the toilet, the kitchen, and the art gallery that also serves to host a large book club every Friday evening.

God, I would love to live in a space like this, I thought as I took in the whimsical nature of my new situation.

Martin is so great. My goodness. Welcoming, intelligent, talkative, creative, curious, warm (I like his curiosity the best). He's a screenwriter who enjoys directing his own short films, has done some hilarious parodies of modern dance and is completely inspirational for me to talk with. God, I relish the opportunity to share ideas with other writers. Just being in the same room is a source of motivation for me. In fact, to this gallivanting lady, nothing in the world feels better than to listen to someone who is actively pursuing his passion share his passion.

I also admire that my host has traveled extensively through Eastern Europe and is currently deciding where to go next. Partially because, well, traveling is involved, and partially because I love meeting with people who are deciding where to go next. I love witnessing this process. The options, the dreams, the "wow... I can do anything... what do I really want?"

We chatted for a bit, I drank a cup of Italian coffee, and then we moseyed to the nearby mall to purchase some groceries (everything is closed on the 1st of November, so Germans have to plan ahead. But they're generally quite good at that). Martin is tall with impressively long legs, so he had to slow down his rather magnificent stride so that my short-average legs and downright stubby feet could keep up. I believe I have to take at least two and a half steps to his one.

The curious screenwriter made vegetable soup for lunch. We conversed some more about theatre, creativity, and the different ways Americans and Germans view failure.

I agree with Martin's theory that Americans accept failure more readily than Germans. We discuss it, accept it, try to figure out what we can do better, try, try again, fail again, discuss it, accept it --

Germans succeed. Period.

When they fail, nobody talks about it.

So Germans (generalization alert!) are markedly afraid of failure. Which can be absolutely crippling, as we all know. Fear of failure leads to fear of trying leads to stagnation leads to depression leads to failure.

Or it can just lead to ulcers, high blood pressure and general unhappiness.  I mean, Germans are kind of renowned for getting sh*t done, so fear of failure must serve to motivate them somehow. But it can't be an altogether pleasant form of motivation.

We also talked about my last couchsurfing experience and it was healthy and helpful for me to have someone so understanding and good off of whom to bounce my issues.

"You need to write a reference, Aimee," Martin urged. "Even if he was so nice to you -- no, it's worse that he was nice to you -- it's not okay for him to behave like that," he disapprovingly shook his head, frowning as he tisked "no, no, no, it's not okay."

"But he was mostly nice... I feel guilty and ungrateful addressing the bad stuff when he was so generous."

"It doesn't matter how generous he was. That just makes it worse."

I'm going to talk about this problem here because I want women to be able to use my blog as a resource that helps them travel safely, comfortably and confidently. I don't want to make things sound easier than they are and I don't want to sugar coat the shit. Because as I mentioned in a previous post (Bold, Broke and Beaten), there's plenty of shit to go around.

I've noticed a fundamental flaw in the couchsurfing system. The flaw is based on references written entirely out of fear of negative feedback. This is a disturbingly effective means of manipulation because references mean everything in the couchsurfing community.

Suppose I have an unpleasant experience with a host. I'm going to hesitate to write a negative reference out of fear that I'd receive a negative reference in return. This is selfish because it serves to keep my profile clean and pretty, but does zilch to protect future guests from being subjected to the same inappropriate behavior and it allows the host to continue taking advantage of the people who stay in his/her home. I've written positive references for some couchsurfing members who've made my stay tremendously uncomfortable simply because this program is an integral part of my life. I volunteer and I couchsurf. It's how I live, and a negative reference on my profile could have an extremely serious, real impact on my ability to find places to stay in the future. For me, writing a negative reference on a host's page is equivalent to most people saying "F*ck you!" to their landlord. When they have no lease and there are dozens of eager tenants waiting just outside the front door.

You just don't do it.

So do I make the responsible, compassionate, considerate choice that keeps people safe? Or do I just look after myself? Surely someone else can...

Someone else. I abhor it when I think "someone else" when confronted with challenging situations, but I have to admit that I do.

Think it.

 Often.

It's the thought/answer/solution for someone who's afraid. A person who is afraid and guilty will add the word "surely" in front of the phrase "someone else".


We don't want to feel responsible. "Surely someone else" diminishes the weight on our own shoulders.

But I am. It's my responsibility. It happened to me and it's my obligation, duty, onus, whatever to be honest. 

"Women should not be afraid to mention what men are not afraid to do," Baris wrote to me upon hearing my story and my reluctance to share it. 

"You can say it in a tactful way," Martin advised. "Something like, "he was generous -- he showed me the city and did all these nice things -- but I was a little surprised that the bed was meant to be shared and to see him walking around naked." That will be enough to protect the other women."

I'll write the reference once I leave Germany. I know that Munich is a large (massive) city, but I'd still rather not chance accidentally encountering him on the street.

I suppose my overall "message" for women would be the cliché "it's never okay," but also to exhort ladies to share their experiences. Don't think the uncomfortable encounter was too trivial to discuss or that you should just "get over it," "man up already," or accept that "geez, it was only a joke." If it made you uncomfortable, it made you uncomfortable. Women should not be afraid to mention what men are not afraid to do. If men get upset when you share what happened, it's probably a sign they shouldn't have done it in the first place. Yes?

Don't be afraid that people will judge you for "airing your dirty laundry." If someone else did the soiling, it is not your responsibility to wash out the stains before the general public (read "other victims") can see them. It is not your responsibility to clean up a mess made by someone else, especially when the mess is something that brought you pain or discomfort.

I recognize that this is your choice. I recognize that there is a certain stigma attached to women who expose the inappropriate behavior of men, but --

-- but according to RAINN, 60% of sexual abuse is left unreported. 

You can help protect other women by displaying that dirty laundry.

I recognize that this is your choice and that you are not responsible for the behavior of the men who've abused/harassed you, but --

-- but what if the 60% of unreported cases dropped to 30%?

15%?

0%?

I know that women are not responsible, but we have the opportunity to share information that might keep other women and girls safe. It is not for the purpose of attacking men and motivated by hate. It is for the purpose of defending women and motivated by empathy.

What if we banded together to parade the dirty laundry? What if we stopped covering it up? What if we faced our fear of shame, disregarded social pressures and abolished our misplaced sense of guilt? What if we stood up and displayed the signs of sexual abuse and harassment instead of trying to Clorox them away?

Advice from one of the kindest fellows I've ever met:  

Baris
speaking of CS, people feel like if they offend that person, it'll mean they don't appreciate what the host did for them. We need to separate these things 
he could be opening 5243213 bottles of champagne
it doesn't matter 

Aimee 
it's just hard to separate them. 
I talked to my current host about it, and he says that it's WORSE that he was so nice to me 
because it's more manipulative 

Baris
that's why these people are so generous 
to be able to say "after all I've done for you?" 

Aimee
I HATE this sort of manipulation 
it was the same in Morocco. It was just more violent there.  
It leaves me feeling gross. Really, really gross

Ladies. Don't let yourselves feel gross. And please, please -- I know it's hard, but don't allow yourselves to be guilted into silence.