From South to North: Grappling with Loneliness

Part 2 | How climate influences behavior and well-being: moving from Miami, FL to Frankfurt, Germany.

Aerial view of Frankfurt, Germany: traditional next to modern architecture. Photo by Igor Flek on Unsplash

Read Part 1 of this series here:

From North to South: Savoring the Southern Hospitality

It was an early July day in the summer of 2008. I was 26 and, after having crossed the Atlantic once and gotten deeply permeated by the Southern US culture, I was on a plane back to the old continent. But I wasn’t returning to my native Romania. I was crossing back the Atlantic to restart life in Germany. A professional opportunity took me there, but I didn’t think I would stay longer than six months in the country I never dreamt of living. 

Landing in Frankfurt and trying to make a new life there was a culture shock, to say the least. 

In my early 20s, impressionable and sponge-like, I had soaked in the Southern US culture like a thirsty animal. Three years later, I hadn’t become American, much less Floridian, but I was permeated by their sociable and gregarious culture. Smiling to strangers on the street, making small talk with the cashier at a shop… all those brief social interactions some people call fake about the US culture were actually like a lavender-scented whiff encircling strangers, making a good day even more pleasant. 

When I arrived in Frankfurt, Germany, my lavender-scented habits were quickly squashed by the Teutonic force. Here it was all about efficiency and getting the job done. No time for silly smiles at strangers, exchanging polite courtesies or taking the time to meander. Everyone around seemed irritated, displaying a straight face at best. Everyone around seemed to have a clear destination point where they would get even if they had to walk straight through you. There was no ‘excuse me’ for bumping into someone’s shoulder on the street or for stepping on someone’s shoes to enter the commuter train. It was all so rude, I thought. 

I got defensive early on, like an animal that doesn’t feel safe in their surroundings. On top of it, I didn’t speak much of the language, barely understanding people. And let me tell you, people in Frankfurt would openly show you their contempt if you stumbled your way through the boulders that are the German compound words. The culture shock was in full blast. 

We know that weather influences our mental state. That sunshine boosts happiness and inspires that Italian dolce far niente. And that rain or wind enhances feelings of sadness or even depression. Climate influences customs and behaviors and ultimately shapes the entire culture under it. 

In July, when I arrived in Frankfurt, it was colder than it had been back in Miami the previous December. My body and mind just couldn’t grasp such an upside-down weather situation. I realized how far up north I had moved when at 5:00 in the morning it was already bright daylight. I checked the map to see how close I was to Scandinavia and my stomach dropped. The Caribbean was so far away. The flip side would come next winter when the days were so short I barely saw daylight for a few weeks. 

Research shows that “in cold weather, we tend to stay indoors, where our social interactions and activities are more limited. Living at lower temperatures, with more seasonal variation, requires groups to focus on the future and exercise more self-control.”

As a southerner at heart, when I moved to a northern country like Germany, I instantly felt a deep loneliness. There are two pillars that help with feeling connected, and I was deficient in both: language and customs. 

Language 

Language is essential to penetrate the cultural iceberg of any country. When a language such as German, is harder to learn, it slows down immigrants’ adjustment to the local culture.

Without speaking the language we cannot read a local writer’s books in the original version; we cannot follow a local TV show, understand the humor or attend a theatre play. In southern cultures, not speaking the language might be compensated with the typical social gregariousness, where you feel welcomed through smiles and proximity and sharing of food. But up north, that is not the case, increasing the isolation.

And for a southerner, to be alone in a foreign place and not be able to speak to anyone is almost like a death sentence.  

Language creates bonds and is the medium through which stories are passed on, the culture is shared. Humor is a big part of understanding a specific culture. There is this saying that Germans always laugh at the very end, only after a joke has been fully explained. That is due to how German grammar is built, which places the verb at the very end of a sentence. Without the verb, one cannot really get what the entire phrase is about, so they have to wait for the last word, quite literally, to get it.

For example, the sentence I cycle because punching people is frowned upon would sound in German approximately: I cycle because frowned upon is people to punch. This is just a small block from the grand cultural iceberg called Germany.

Fun fact: In Slavic languages, such as Polish, Germany is called Niemcy, and its variations. This comes from an old Slavic word that means ‘mute’. That’s how Germans who would cross into these Slavic countries were called — the Mute Ones; because they couldn’t speak the local languages. Another proof of how essential language is in relating to and immersing in the host culture.

Customs 

Leisure at home

Up north, it’s harder to meet the locals in social settings, primarily due to the unfriendly climate. Of course, there are the famous Biergarten, the beer gardens, and the Oktoberfest, but these are options during about eight days of summer that Germany usually gets.  

So Germans spend most of their leisure time inside their homes when there is bad weather. They don’t live life so much outside, on the streets, in parks, on terraces, on the beaches, as southerners do. I read in a study that about 70% of Germans list as leisure activity “having friends over to their home”. The outsiders, the foreigners, clearly have no way into that custom.

“Germans love Italy, but they don’t respect it. Italians respect Germany, but they don’t love it.”

Efficiency first

While on a trip to Spain with some German friends (well, friends of friends to be precise), the waiter of the beach restaurant chatted for a few minutes with the one friend in the group who spoke Spanish. He described the menu items in great detail, which fish was fresh, which dish was his favorite, and what we could combine to try more types of clams. Another German friend got impatient at all the blabbing and asked sarcastically if the waiter was also giving us full-day sightseeing instructions. Short and to-the-point answers was all he expected.

Southern people connect by speaking, by sharing details. Northerners… I’m still trying to figure out how they connect. 

Eating and drinking

Eating is another activity that is social in the south and pragmatic in the north. In Germany having lunch was a chore to be dealt with fast and efficiently, in the typical local fashion.

Up in Frankfurt, there seemed to be no art of lunching in the southern sense of the word. No taking the time, no savoring a certain taste, no sobremesa — that time, after a meal ends, when people in Spain continue sharing stories and enjoying one another’s company.

It was more like checking something off the to-do list. A quick bratwurst with curry mustard and the job was done. Men in suits lining in front of a currywurst truck to get their lunch was just like watching patients lining up to get their annual flu shot. Orderly, anal, lifeless. Lonely.

In the south, food is more varied, more colorful, thanks to the climate. But in the north, it’s less tasty, less interesting to experience. It’s a necessary task, not a means of connection, and probably the reason why it’s less important in the northerners’ cultures.

Climate, and its impact on the available food, once again influences behavior. 

“People down south drink wine with their food and socialize.”

I cannot claim that I dug too deep into the cultural iceberg of Germany. Neither that I tried very hard. I was busy mourning leaving the US behind, while already having to navigate a completely new ship in different waters.

What I do know is how I felt in my gut while living in the cultural north. The language seemed too harsh for my ears, and frustration overcame me before I could make myself understood. Daily life was too centered on an invisible target where everyone was rushing to, leaving me alone and lonely, unable to find someone to take a deeper breath with. The weather dragged my mood down probably more than any tasteless meal or stern face.

Ultimately, I didn’t feel at home while living in the north. And when you’re far away from any sense of home, loneliness can overcome you. Unless you’re secretly working on an escape plan, back to the hospitable south.

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