Almost German: The Wild Wild East gets westernized, again

"Schnell! Schnell! Das Amerikaner ist so farking slow und stupid!" And so went my application for a residence and work permit these past few months. Happily it was granted and the ritual head shaving and uniform issuance will commence next week. Here's how the process works: To get a permit you need proof of govt. approved health insurance and to get govt. approved health insurance, you need to transfer the money to the company through a German bank account, but to get a German bank account you need to have a residence permit and to get a residence permit you need the health insurance and to get the health insurance you need a bank account and to get a bank account you need a residence permit. Hell, I could have just stayed in the US if I wanted this kind of govt. efficiency. But being a student of first world government idiocy, I simply put my head down and acted as if I were going to the DMV in the US looking for a driving license. This strategy worked perfectly. I was also able to find an insurance agent who already had a bank account where I could just walk up to the counter at his bank and give them cash.

"Ja!", now I'm nearly German. I will, however, give the public servants here a few points. They were at every stage, pleasant, courteous and spoke excellent English for the most part. I worried a bit at the final stages in that my agent at Kreisverwaltungsferat (Immigration) didn't speak squat for English and seemed visibly perturbed that I didn't speak much Deutsch - any Deutsch. For image understanding, please roll over here.

No problem. He told me to go back outside, have a seat. and in minutes an English-speaking aide was produced who was like, absolutely happy, to put his linguistic skills to the task, and push through my application. It was all in all, pretty cool. I have now succeeded in going from west to east and back to west again.Back on the grid, kids. Now, to figure out the European VAT tax system. I owe them money already. Hmmm.

My Lil' Miss Buddha

Sadly, this is the image of a Vietnamese Buddhist monk that many Americans of my generation are familiar with from the beginning of our country's involvement here.

"June 11, Thich Quang Duc, a Buddhist monk from Vietnam, burned himself to death at a busy intersection in downtown Saigon to bring attention to the repressive policies of the Catholic Diem (American supported) regime that controlled the South Vietnamese government at the time. Buddhist monks asked the regime to lift its ban on flying the traditional Buddhist flag, to grant Buddhism the same rights as Catholicism, to stop detaining Buddhists and to give Buddhist monks and nuns the right to practice and spread their religion. U.S. Senator, Frank Church, a member of the United States Senate Committee on Foreign Relations" claimed that "such grisly scenes have not been witnessed since the marched hand in hand into the Roman arenas." The self-immolation was later regarded as a turning point in the Buddhist Crisisthe critical point in the collapse of the Diệm regime. U.S. President John F. Kennedy said that "no news picture in history has generated so much emotion around the world as that one." Whilst burning, Thich Quang Duc never moved a muscle."

That was 45 years ago – and a Catholic President was moved to put pressure on the then South Vietnamese government to allow religious freedom for Buddhists in the country.

Today, things are much quieter in Vietnam. Every day a woman in her 60s, I call Lil' Miss Buddha, pads barefoot along my street, holding a wide brass bowl for contributions. I approach her, sometimes with very little to offer, and put what I can into her container. Hands folded, I bow my head, as she bows hers and recites a prayer, for about 30 seconds. And then we are both on our way. I feel some peace every time this happens.