Every family needs a narrative. For those who live on a horse farm, the family history is framed by equine care. For those in the city, it’s the slick city streets and cultural fare. For multicultural families such as my own, we require a cohesive storyline that congeals our often conflicting world views.
No two people are exactly alike. After spending many years in various parts of the United States and Germany, I can tell you that Germans and Americans are not the same at all. While we may share a similar love of certain things, the ways in which both nations communicate are highly diverse.
To the American ear, Germans are painfully direct, critical and bold. To the German eye, Americans are brash, outspoken and arrogant. Navigating the delicate balance between a positive understanding of culturally embedded communication styles has been my life’s work.
Add in a few children to the mix, and you’ve got yourself a challenge. Which values should we revere? Which should we ignore? How do we find the paste that holds our family together?
We found it at the pet store yesterday.
Ever since my daughter’s friend buried her treasured hamster, Speedy, we have been in tense negotiations about a family pet. For weeks, nay months, we debated about the merits of a Hohlbaum hamster. We toyed with the idea of getting a few turtles, which, upon further investigation, proved to be complicated since we don’t live at the lip of the Amazon. A Germanic climate might leave the poor things stone cold, and we already have our hands full with two finnicky children. Pampering a tortoise didn’t seem like a good idea after all.
Yesterday was the Promised Day. Come hell or high water, we were going to purchase the animal of our dreams. Chatting with a friend on the phone that morning, I came to realize hamsters are nocturnal animals.
“They bite, they’re squirrely, and they die after two years. Don’t do it,” my wise friend advised. She suggested getting two guinea pigs instead.
After school, we piled into the car. On the way, we got lost, then found our way to the only pet store within a 25-mile radius. We marched to the guinea pig pen and immediately fell in love with two of the furriest, beady-eyed guinea pigs alive. After seeing the look on my children’s faces, I filled my arms with guinea pig food, bedding, special water, and treats. We bought the biggest cage ever. I even volunteered my debit card to the cashier with a scandalous grin on my face. She wished us luck with the animals, then added, “And it looks like your mom is going to have the most fun!”
In the short 24 hours we have had our new progeny, we have built a race track, a teepee out of bamboo, and have stroked, cajoled, cooed and loved these little beings like no tomorrow.
It looks like our family narrative has been captured by two rodents. Lea is the shy one. And yes, Speedy is the other.
