Poles Apart

Recently, one of my main German correspondents took me slightly to task in respect of my generally held view of the German propensity to appear like complete lunatics, notably when stomping the streets of Playa de Muro or Alcúdia with two skiing poles or indeed hanging around the supermarkets with the same pointed sticks: not in a threatening manner as in they are about to hold up the Trabilsa security van, but as in well it's the most normal thing in the world, isn't it? Which it isn't. But therein lies the rub or the "Rübe", a word to which my class was introduced by a German student doing some teaching duties at my old school who claimed that it was slang for penis (it is actually a word for carrot, so if you like ...). The rub, however, is that for many a German it is quite normal. Quite normal, that is, to appear less than normal, as defined from a British perspective.

This all relates to a none-too-rare cultural discussion as to the German trait of conformity and the British one of individuality. My man in Munich (strictly speaking, he isn't in Munich; he's about two hours drive away, but it sounded better in an alliterative way) argues that the great Panzer divisions of Germans yomping, with strength and joy, across the wheat fields and along the "Strassen" of the country are demonstrating an individuality that the cynical Brits simply can't understand. One might say that there is indeed a conformity to be observed in the massed ranks of Nordic walkers marching in an easterly direction towards Poland. And within the boundaries of the Bundesprepublik this may indeed be so, but not when the Nordic art is transported to the likes of Alcúdia. At this point, it becomes an expression of individuality, and I can see the logic of the argument, because - at heart - it is an expression of quite honestly I couldn't give a toss what anyone else thinks of me, especially the British.

This is a not unworthy trait at all. The more one thinks about it, the more the conformity-individuality axis is spun in favour of an axis-power non-conformity. German men, for the most part, have an admirable absence of any dress sense. I know one who wears a pink beret, for example. And no, he's not, in case you were thinking otherwise. It must all stem from a desire to wear strange hats with feathers and tight leather shorts. And trust me, such people do exist. But there goes my British cynicism. I should stop it.

How really can one condemn for lack of individuality a nation populated with men and women who, at the first hint of warm weather, are prone to getting their kit off (just as well, given some of the clothes they wear). This is also admirable, albeit it does rather depend where and which men or women are indulging in some "Freikörperkultur", the abbreviation for which is FKK: only the Germans could have invented a term for nudism that sounds like something else. I daresay that there is a nudist Nordic walking movement somewhere in Germany. Just so long as they don't start doing it along Alcúdia's beach. Especially not with those poles. Ooh er, missus.

And when one thinks of conformity, what greater degree of conformity is there than that of the British male who has wandered off the set of Eastenders? The British male is defined in terms of Phil or Grant Mitchell. Just take a walk along The Mile, and see for yourselves. And they would never, ever be seen with two poles.


QUIZ
Yesterday's title - Jackson Browne (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bww2prhAWEA). Today's title - it is said that the lyrics were about two of the founder members.

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