You’ve Got The Power, Agathe Bauer

“There are whole websites devoted to what people heard wrongly in a song,” was what I started to say during a routine German workday lunch, when one of my buddies interjected, “Yes! Do you know Agathe Bauer?”

I was confused at first, because what I thought she said, in a mix of German and English, was “I got a Bauer”, which translates as “I got a farmer”.  The irony is that Bauer is also one of the most typical German surnames ever. Meanwhile, “Agathe Bauer” is apparently what scores of Germans heard instead of “I got the power” in the 1989 hit The Power by Snap! The cycle continues! Predictably, the gif inserted at this point of my post is…

After  I learned this piece of information, I couldn’t stop imagining what the fictitious Agathe Bauer would look like and making up what she did in life. I think she’s a sturdy German woman who lives on a farm with her three grown sons, and she wants them all to get married. But most likely none of the candidates the sons brought home would be good enough for her, my friend added firmly, and I felt like agreeing. I think that besides investing her thoughts and emotions in her sons’ future, Agathe would be great at making jam and would be very hands-on at the farm.

Nationally songs where people heard something wrong are affectionately referred to as Agathe Bauer songs and the interpretations are endless.  I would still like to add, though, that while I still have plenty to contribute myself, I never joined the Starbucks lovers team. One thing in life I can be certain of.

 

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Becoming German: My First Packstation

Ever since I started to shop online, which actually did happen when I moved to Germany (late, but happy bloomer), I have become my own post office. There are so many stories I can tell about recovering packages delivered while I was at work.

Going to the real post office (and you are lucky if you have one nearby) after getting the nice notification in your mailbox is, of course, a conventional route that doesn’t make for a particularly spectacular story, unless your nice friends patiently listen to you chanting “I picked up my package!” like a five-year-old or you relate amusing things you heard while waiting in line.

Then there’s the neighbors, who you don’t want to inconvenience, but you also sometimes sign for their packages and it’s just a part of modern life. There are also the shops downstairs where the staff might be nice enough to hold on to your boxes. There might be an office that reacts slightly grumpily when you finally do manage to come by, so you feel a little guilty since they have signed for your stuff multiple times and leave them a box of chocolates. And there’s the notification about your package being dropped off at a place you never go to and you have to find out how to get there. Time is running out, your package will soon be sent back and the opening hours aren’t too accommodating either. All in the name of consumerism and not wanting to enter an actual shop after getting almost addicted to all the psychological comforts online shopping offers.

It was time to get organized, I thought one morning, or even more organized – because make no mistake, I was a freaking good post office. But I did not want to be dependent on so many different receiving channels anymore. So after asking around and doing some diligent reading in German, I signed up for the so-called Packstation, already fantasizing about the changes this would bring to my life.

As with most things nowadays, you have to get an online account first – cue additional emails to customer service about not getting the confirmation email and therefore not being able to proceed with my enthusiastic readiness to conform, despite encouraging reminders from the service that I had “only one step left” to complete. This step was indeed finally completed. After that I had to physically go to the post office. And after that I was waiting for an envelope in the mail. Just when I was starting to wonder, it arrived, containing a shiny new gold-coloured plastic card. With new numbers on it that I had to identify.

After my first initial nervous excitement was over, I realized one very important thing – I had no clue how to use a Packstation or what it looked like, despite the instructions included with my envelope. This information was, of course, easy to research, and it was also comforting to confirm that there were other people before me who had googled “Wie nutze ich eine Packstation”.

With shaking fingers I placed my first ever order to be delivered to this new hiding place. The package arrived. I breathed out. And then I jumped again when I got a text message saying “Your package has been at the Packstation for TWO DAYS.” OK, I’m going. I successfully located the Packstation – two yellow walls of identical cells row upon row and a slot in the middle of one where I was to swipe my magic golden card. The touchscreen in front of me was very friendly and very clear. My only moment of panic came when I heard a click and a distinct sound of something opening behind me. Just as I thought I was afraid to turn around and search for fear this would CHANGE EVERYTHING IN FRONT OF ME FOREVER, the screen told me “The box is located behind you.” I turned around and saw one little door ajar. The sun was shining, there was almost no one around and it was all like something out of Chronicles of Narnia or Labyrinth.

I’m a fan now.