WIEEEEE HEISSSSEEENNNN SIE?

It is funny how each time you go back to school, the shine on the apple wears off a little earlier than the last time. I realized this at my very first German class a couple of weeks ago....There I was with my newly purchased notebook and color-coded flashcards (green for grammar!). I felt sort of chic because I had chosen a language school that was chiefly populated by refugees. I was eager to decline verbs with my fellow citizens of the world...we could help each other with our homework....they would invite me to their homes where I would listen to their stories and apologize for my bourgeois colonializing existence.

It was 8:59 and my teacher - appropriately named Herr Fundament - entered the room.
I had a feeling that something was wrong when he introduced himself....

"ICH.....HEEEEIIIISSSEEE (he is pointing to himself and writing on the blackboard in giant block letters)....HERRRRR TORRRRRSTEN FUUUUUNDAMENT..... Okay - he must think that we're really dumb, because this is supposed to be the intermediate class.... I even took a battery of tests to make sure I was in the right place. I got 52 percent, which meant that I was at the very bottom of the cut off score for intermediate, and the woman made me take the test AGAIN so she could be sure to put me in the right place. She just wasn't sure, you see, and it would have been impossible for her to make a decision that was not based on empirical data.....

So if I am in the intermediate class, why do I feel like I am in kindergarten?

"WIEEEEEE.....HEEEISSSSEEN...SIEEEEEE? " Her Fundament gestures to a woman in a burqa:

"Ich ....ch....ch...eise......Maryam"
"GUUUUUUTTTTT.....WOOOOOHHHEERRRRR....KOMMMEN SIE?
"Ich komme ....aus Palestine"
"AAAAHHHH....PALESTINA....GUUUUUUUT" - intones Herr Fundament.

I am in a German class with Palestinians.

Her Fundament points to a nervous looking man eating chocolate....
"WIEEEEEEEEEEEE....HEEEEISSSSEN....SIEEEEEEEEEEEE"
"Ich heisse Pavel....komme aus Polen"
"GUUUUUUUUUUT"

I am in a German class with Palestinians and Poles.

Herr Fundament points to me..... "WIE.....HEEEEIIIIISSSEEN....SIE?"
"Ich heisse Ben"
"AAAHHHH...GUUUUUT.....NACHNAME?"
"Schnitzer"
"AAAAH....SCHNITZER....DAS IST EIN RICHTIGES DEUTCHES NAME!!! GUUUT!"

I am in a German class with Palestinians and Poles. The teacher thinks I am German. Is this a joke?

In a way, it was. It turns out that the administration had placed me in the beginner class by mistake. When I asked them (in German) why they had done this, they indicated that the adjudicator of the placement exam had clearly marked on the registration form that I was to be placed in course A1. When I explained to them that I had used complete sentences and several verb tenses to register for a course that was designed for people who had no prior knowledge of the German language -- that this might have been a clue that the adjudicator had made a mistake, they told me that it was not their place to ask questions: If the adjudicator thought it was appropriate for me to be placed in the beginner's course she must have had her reasons. Punkt.

One wonders aloud how history might have been different if the Germans had asked questions....like "where are the Silvermans going?".

But let's not dwell on the past. The administration duly registered me in the intermediate class, and I began my studies in earnest the next day. They did not apologize for their error, but I didn't mind. I was just happy they didn't make me take another test.

A few days later I was in the lobby of the conservatory waiting for my lesson. I bumped into Patrick - a fellow tenor. We study with the same teacher. He is very nice and personable, but understated-- qualities you find in a lot of German people. I find this rather unnerving. I am suspicious of how well adjusted they are...why aren't they self-deprecating, sarcastic and cagey like I am?

"What is your last name?" asks Patrick....
"Schnitzer"
"Ah, so you are German"
"No"
"But someone in your family is German"
"No"
"But somebody in your family must have taught you German, because you speak German pretty well....and then there's your name."
"My family is from Poland"
"So you are Polish?"
"Yes...and no..."

And then Patrick gets it

"Ah...are you, perhaps, from a Hebrew family?"
"Yes"
"Ah...I see, but your family - they obviously survived..."

etc.

And therein lies the answer. If you had to go through this every time you introduced yourself you would be a little cagey yourself. Sometimes I just want to have a card - like the blind people who sell pens at the mall... I could hand it out to people:

"Hello, my name is Ben Schnitzer. I am not German, even though my name is German. Funny, right? You are probably wondering if I am....you know....Jewish. I am. My family comes from Poland, and I am Polish too, but not a Pole. And no, my family did not survive the war. Well, obviously some of them did because otherwise I would not be here. How are you?"

...or I could just wear a burqa...