Waiting in line on the fourth floor of a massive local government building in Cologne, I suddenly arrive in Germany, surrounded by foreign-speaking and -looking individuals, who – as far as I can see – are all Germans by nationality, waiting to speak to the lady who deals with invitations for foreign nationals. This process involves proving to the German state, that you take full financial and legal responsibility for any possible expenses or other troubles that might occur from the visit of a foreign friend or family member, thus improving his/her chances of getting a German visa in his/her respective country.
If you cannot prove a constant or high enough income, as in my case, you have to leave €1,500 in cash as a deposit, which you will only get back once you bring a copy of your friend’s passport, including the page that shows his exit stamp from Germany or the EU.
Such protective measures and the overwhelming presence of foreign-looking individuals here, together with a series of other things I’ve noticed since moving to Cologne two weeks ago, make me realise that the image of Germany I’ve entertained over the last decade was profusely flawed. It was created by having a home in Trostberg, a small, rural town in conservative Bavaria and not seeing much else of Germany in any detail for many years now. While in Trostberg I used to turn my head when I saw a black person walk past, here in the local government building of one of Germany’s biggest cities, I find myself staring at a German-looking girl who sticks out from the others waiting on the long row of blue benches. I have to admit, that the fourth floor of this building is the “Ausländeramt” – foreigners department. Nevertheless, one cannot help but notice, especially if you have almost become a foreigner yourself, that Cologne (and most other major cities, I think), have a huge population of 1st, 2nd and 3rd generation immigrants. Sometimes it seems to be a majority and rumour has it it’s at least 25%.
Personally, I am very happy about and fond of the increasing internationalisation of Germany. I have always felt a strange sense of narrow-mindedness or an attitude that we describe as “small-citizen-ly”, whenever I returned from abroad, especially when returning to Munich airport. Triggered by people’s glances, snippets of overheard conversations or glimpses of newspaper headlines, I would sometimes get this odd sensation within minutes of walking out of the plane.
Now I find myself sitting on public transport, staring at people of all kinds, guessing their origins, trying to figure out their language and enthusiastically approaching some of them, for example if I notice they speak Arabic. I want to say something like “Welcome to Germany” to them, just the way I was welcomed nearly everyday by taxi drivers, shop owners or passers-by in Jordan, but then realise the ridiculousness of it, particularly in light of the fact that they probably have spent more time in Germany in the last years than me and know more about it’s current affairs than me by far. And more than that, I can’t really say that I feel this is ‘my’ country.
Of course not everybody here is as excited as I am about Kurds, Iraqis, Kasakhs, Nigerians, East Asians, Romanians and of course – Turkish people living in Germany – there are a lot of critical voices and there are also understandable reasons for their views. If you ask me, as long as there are jobs and homes for new immigrants, they might as well all come here.
And although it is becoming increasingly difficult to settle here, it is not to say, unfortunately, that high levels of immigration will inevitably lead to opening conservative minds and to increased levels of integration.
How to define integration, though? Some people might see it as “them” having to adapt to “our” laws, rules and way of life. I would like to think that such people don’t acknowledge the value that immigrants have brought to our country – economically, socially and culturally and the benefit that will or does already result from this. I believe that integration in the case of Europe, where immigrants in some parts constitute significant parts of the population, requires adaptation, respect and interest from both sides. As much as I disagree with Turkish or Arab families living in culturally separate enclaves within German cities, where they can maintain conditions very close to ‘home’ sometimes without even a need to speak German, I believe that Germans also need to adapt to their new fellow citizens to some extent – more than just accepting that they are there and that they are different.
To be honest, I am not sure whether I am really in a position to voice such opinions, having only lived here for two weeks now and very much struggling to integrate myself.
In any case: Welcome to Germany!
