One of the reasons we wanted to come to Europe and spend a year away from the safety and familiarity of our home was to experience a foreign culture and in particular to experience a foreign language. In the past few years, as the immigrant community in Portland has grown, I have often wondered, while shopping at the Back Bay Shop N' Save, how the hooded mothers in sandals with children at their side felt being in a foreign land where few of the shopkeepers spoke their language. I now have a renewed and sharpened appreciation for the importance of language as a means or a barrier to communication and the importance of always maintaining a sense of honor.

I remember when Michael and I lived in Germany 20+ years ago, we couldn't figure out why so many of the streets in Munich had the same name. Unfortunately, we learned the hard way that Einbahn is not the name of a street, it is a road sign meaning One Way.

Before we came to Germany this time, we decided that it would be helpful for the whole family to take some German lessons. About a year before we came, we found a wonderful woman named Ullie to tutor us, and we conscientiously began our weekly family lessons. It was particularly helpful for the kids to receive a grounding in the basics-how to count, how to spell, how to order food and so forth. Since we have been here, we have learned a few more of the basics-again, often the hard way.

We most often have to use our German in talking with the shopkeepers, or in arranging for some service people to come to the house to fix something. When we were in Starnberg last spring to find a place to live, we went into one of the small local cheese/meat markets to get some provisions for a picnic. Since I had studied the most German of any one in the family, I bravely stepped up to the counter to order some cheese. I was so focused on getting the correct German words out that I became flustered-especially when I realized that I also had to use a different unit of measurement, that is, kilograms instead of pounds or ounces. Instead of ordering a pound or so of cheese-500 grams-I found myself asking for 1,200 pounds-500 kilograms! Fortunately, Noah figured out what I had done and corrected the order.

About six months later, I went back to the same store, hoping the shopkeeper didn't remember me. This time, I needed some boneless breast of chicken for a dinner party. I'd hoped I would be able to point at some chicken breasts and get out of the shop with a few bittes and dankes. Unfortunately, there were no chicken breasts on display, so I had to improvise quickly. The only word I could come up with that seemed close to bone was bein. So I very carefully asked for a legless chicken-bein meaning leg. Once again, the woman behind the counter stared helplessly at me. She went to the back room and got her supervisor, who came out and asked in perfect English, Can I help you?

I haven't been back to that store since.

We have found that some of the most important German words to know are bestellen (to order), bezahlen (to pay) in eine Woche (in a week), zuruck bleiben (stay back from the train) and es ist kaput (it is broken). Germans seem to have very little inventory in their stores, but they will always be glad to bestellen something, and it will almost always be available in eine Woche. Since we have been in Germany, we have had to bestellen a fax/printer, a cell phone (a handy), parts for a broken CD player, a mouse for the computer, a control valve for the shower (Wasserhahn), a pumpkin (Kurbis), a turkey (Truthahn) for Christmas dinner, prescriptions from the pharmacy, long underwear and books. Invariably, things are available in eine Woche. We can usually handle the bestellen part, because we are talking with someone face to face. When the order arrives and someone calls us on the phone after eine Woche, that's the hard part. Our ability to talk in German over the phone has certainly improved, but it's still a challenge.

Recently, Michael had a particularly bad day and had to take a taxi in Starnberg because our car was being fixed. When he went to hand the tax driver a 50DM note, he meant to say, I'm sorry I have nothing smaller for change (kein kleiner). Instead, he said, I'm sorry I have no clothes on (kein Kleider). And last week, in my German class, I tried to tell my teacher that I was going to visit a home for the elderly. She looked at me very quizzically, and told me I had just said I was going to look at an old apartment building.

On another occasion, it was a cold and rainy day, an elderly woman was walking by our house and she stopped to talk to me. I finally understood that she wanted a ride into town. During the ride, I made small talk, and said that Starnberg was very pretty. She scowled and I swear she said that Starnberg had too many pairs of pants. I just nodded and smiled. Later, I found out that she had said that she thought Starnberg had too many houses (hosen vs. hausen).

So our life in a foreign land continues to go well. We all have a renewed appreciation of the important of language-and at times, we long for the sound of a thick Maine accent.