Here’s an article with the other side of the story, from Borat’s “victims.” Most were unwitting, the majority are laughing it off, and yes, the antique shop owners did get paid for all the broken merchandise.
Update: So, those frat boys aren’t exactly laughing.
My mom reads my blog.
(Hi Mom!)
She generally avoids the computer, since she says she’d rather being doing more productive things like reading a book or polishing the chrome on the tub or eating chocolate. As much as that shocks my internet-possessed sensibilities, it’s hard to argue with her logic. But she faithfully reads my blog anyway, so she can see photos of my pregnant self and read about all the things I neglect to tell her when we talk on the phone.
A few weeks ago, I commented that my increasingly rotund form has affected my balance, causing some teetering in the shower. I meant it as a humorous reference to my pregnant form. If I’d actually fallen down and broken my crown, I realize it wouldn’t be funny. But the next time my mother called, the first thing she said was, “I read your blog about the shower. You fell down in the shower?” in a concerned tone.
And of course this irritated me. If I’d actually hurt myself, I wouldn’t make a joke about it. And can’t my mom recognize humor? Gawd. Can’t she stop thinking like my mother for five minutes?
And then I realized that, no, she probably can’t. And that’s what I am in for. And I’m going to have a boy, who will inevitably want to jump off tall objects and play bonecrushing sports and stuff poisonous insects in his mouth. So I’ll just remain thankful for the relatively small build he will probably inherit, which will most likely keep him off the defensive line. And try to give my mom a break for acting like a mom. I guess we just can’t help it.
We’re at week 30 – just 25% of my pregnancy left. So you probably assume that Jeff and I have concrete plans in place regarding who, where, and how our baby will be delivered. I put off writing this entry until we’d figured out all of those details but, like everything in our lives here, it seems that these decisions take three times as long as we think they should. We’ve met with three midwives and toured one hospital in the past month. Though we haven’t finalized our choice of personnel or location yet, I feel like I have a much better handle on how the German system works when it comes to people (what I imagined to be midwives, physicians, nurses, lactation consultants, doulas, etc) and care facilities.
Finding a Midwife and a Hospital
I started my midwife search by asking my doctor, who gave me one name, of a midwife who is very kind and competent but who said she didn’t feel comfortable working with me because of her limited English skills. I then asked another American woman who had recently given birth. She asked her midwife for referrals, and by making a bunch of phone calls and emails, I’m finally homing in on a final choice. My most important criteria include competence (duh), English skills, and willingness to listen to my preferences.
We’ve toured one hospital and will probably tour one more before we make our final decision. We’ve received very different responses as we’ve called around to try to arrange tours. The staff at the hospital we’ve already toured was extremely helpful, even arranging for a doctor to give us a private tour in English. At another hospital, I was met with a brick wall when I asked if I could call in advance to find out when the regularly-scheduled tour might be offered by a guide who spoke a little English. Of course, you can probably guess which hospital is ten minutes from our house and which is a 30-minute drive away. Fortunately, we’ve received good reviews of the medical care offered by all the facilities in the area. I am nervous about my ability communicate in either German or English with the hospital staff no matter where we go. I know from experience that most doctors speak near fluent English, but as you’ll read below, it’s the midwives that matter more.
NOTE ABOUT LANGUAGE: I realize that it might seem like I’m obsessed with the English skills of my care providers, which I know is unfair. I am in Germany, after all, where the language is, um, German. Don’t imagine that I don’t realize how lucky I am that my native language is emphasized in the school system here, and that I have the option of being picky on this matter. In reality, though, communication is extremely important to me in this process, and the likelihood of my German improving enough in the next ten weeks to include any kind of medical terminology is zero. So I’m at the mercy of the kind English-speaking medical community in my area, and so far I’ve been very lucky.
Midwives – Prenatal Care
German midwives play a prominent role at almost every stage of the game. Some women see an OB/GYN for their prenatal care, but others do all prenatal care with a midwife unless complications arise. Others see them in tandem – doctor one month, midwife the next. Midwives have the equipment and training to do basic prenatal checks, including checking fetal heartbeat, position, lab work, etc. They do not offer ultrasounds. Some midwives work out of private practices, others are part of a Geburtshaus (Birth House – more on that later), and others work exclusively in hospitals. Prenatal classes are generally run by midwives. I chose to see an OB/GYN for the majority of my prenatal care simply because that’s what I was used to, and due to my age I probably would have been sent to one anyway for extra checks, ultrasounds, etc. It looks like we’ll work with a midwife to do some kind of private instruction along with one or two prenatal visits instead of attending a birthing class. This is a little disappointing for both of Jeff and me, since it would be nice to meet some other expectant couples, but all of the midwives we’ve met with told us that the courses are conducted completely in German, and we wouldn’t really get much out of them.
Midwives – During Birth
Midwives run the show during birth, unless serious complications arise. I have the option of giving birth at home (um, not for me), in a Geburtshaus, or at a hospital. Midwives are on hand in all these situations. About 5 percent of women in Germany have their babies outside a hospital. Home births have become less common over the years, though it is not uncommon for a midwife to assist a woman who prefers to labor at home, and then send her to the hospital as birth becomes imminent. Most towns have a Geburtshaus, which hosts a group of midwives and a “homier” but still medically-equipped (though not fully anesthesia-equipped) environment where women have their babies, then depart for home within hours. My choice, and the choice of 95% of women in this country, is to give birth at a hospital. Hospitals have staffs of numerous midwives and a handful of doctors on their labor and delivery wards. Midwives staff most aspects of L&D, delivering babies and handling patient care. Nurses take over after the baby is born.
Doctors – During Birth
One of the biggest surprises for me was learning that my regular doctor will definitely not deliver my baby. It is unlikely that I’ll see my regular midwife either, unless I choose a (rare) midwife that maintains a prenatal practice as well as a position at the hospital, and that she happens to be on duty at the crucial moment. The hospital staff of doctors and midwives is quite separate from the medical practice outside the hospital.
At the Hospital
Most of my friends in the US stayed in a combo delivery/patient room when they had their babies. The rooms were large and private, with a couch or recliner where Dad could sleep. German hospitals are set up more traditionally, with delivery rooms for women in active labor. Some are equipped with tubs for water birth, and all the pain relief options I’ve read about and heard about seem to be available. After the baby is born, Mom & baby move to a patient room. All patient rooms in the hospital we toured are doubles – two beds for two moms – with no sleeping facilities for Dad. If the ward is not crowded, however, Dad is allowed to stay in the room and sleep in the second bed. Most families stay at the hospital for 3 days so that the baby’s first pediatric check-up can be done before they go home. We will have the option of leaving earlier if all goes well. I’ve heard that the length of hospital stay is directly affected by the existence, volume, and family size of a roommate. Jeff is concerned mainly about the quality of the cafeteria food.
Midwives – Postnatal Care
Our midwife will visit us at home after the baby is born. She (I’ve never heard of a male midwife here) will come to the house regularly (daily for the first week if I choose) to help with nursing, check my physical and mental state (yikes) and to check on the baby. The frequency and duration of her visits is up for negotiation, so if I need more or less help, I can ask for it. This seems like a wonderful idea, especially since I’m planning to attempt to nurse, and I know I’ll probably use all the help I can get. I imagine these visits will also ease the panicked feeling I inevitably will have when I am sent home with a tiny baby, no close friends or family nearby, and no clue how to take care of him.
Cost
All of the above is covered by the public health insurance system, including prenatal instruction and postnatal home visits.
Odds and Ends
If I had it to do over, I would have gotten serious about searching for a midwife much earlier in my pregnancy, mainly due to my (probably excessive) desire for advance information. It’s been such a relief to sit down with
a midwife and have time to get the answers we’ve wanted for so many weeks (like all the info above). I am much less nervous now that I know vaguely who is responsible for what, I’m familiar with my pain relief options, and it’s likely that some kind midwife or doctor will be able to communicate with me in English during all stages of this process.
My concerns about bedside manner have been somewhat alleviated, mainly because the midwives I’ve met aren’t nearly as rushed as my doctor is. Occasionally I still come up against what has become my least favorite phrase in any language – “That is not possible,” followed by a blank stare – but I’m learning to navigate around it, and find people to help me who are willing to think about possibilities instead of impossibilities.
Next Time
If I’m lucky, and no complications arise, my next installment will be a recap of what actually happened at the hospital and the aftermath. How terrifying. If anything interesting happens before then, I’ll post in the interim.
Part One: The Nuts and Bolts of the First Half of Pregnancy
Introduction and Disclaimer
As I’ve mentioned before, Jeff and I thank our lucky stars almost every weekend for the Roxy, the charmingly shabby movie theatre in Nurnberg that runs films in the original version. That means in English for most Hollywood movies, instead of dubbed in German by a rotating stable of voiceover actors so that Brad Pitt has the same German voice as, say, Dustin Hoffman. Usually we watch these movies weeks after their American release dates, in a teeny shoebox theatre with a single audio speaker and a maximum of five or six other patrons. And we’re darn glad to have the opportunity. Also, they sell beer and Pringles at the concession stand.
I spent a few moments of “Borat” wondering exactly how the Roxy had nabbed a copy on opening weekend. I mused for a second about how on earth the Brad/Dustin voiceover guy is going to say “I make the sexy time with mother-in-law” in a fake Kazakh accent, auf Deutsch. These thoughts were banished in less than a minute, since it took roughly 47 seconds until the sight of my man Borat in his bad suit, open-mouth kissing his sister, distracted me.
I was familiar with da Ali G Show, so I was prepared for multilayered cultural skewering. Sacha Baron Cohen has, apparently, few personal boundaries, and due to this characteristic combined with his sharp satiric mind and an American public that does nothing so well as preen for the cameras, his formula rarely fails. Jeff tends to relate so closely with characters on reality TV and documentaries that he can barely watch. He spent most of Borat hunched down in his chair, peering through the fingers of one hand, laughing uncontrollably. I imagine that’s just the reaction that Cohen wants, and he got it from us. We still catch each other, days later, chuckling to ourselves. Then one of us says to the other, “Who is this lady you have shrunk?” We also realize now that HBO (where Ali G aired in the USA) does apparently have a few TV censorship guidelines, and they’ve all been stripped away (get it? STRIPPED?!) for Borat’s cinema debut.
Afterward, I read Stephanie Zacaharek’s review at Salon.com, and I recalled a twinge of melancholy as I left the theatre. I thought the movie was brilliant, but the moments of unkindess within it struck me. Part of the genius of Cohen’s humor (like that of the Daily Show and Stephen Colbert) is that the audience never knows just how much the rubes onscreen have been told about his characters. Most believe he’s a real foreign journalist, and they attempt to welcome him with their best manners. He simply allows them to dig their own comic graves, but in a few cases, he takes the jokes too far. Of course that’s also what makes him great. He’s willing to do anything (and once you’ve seen his reaction to the Victoria’s Secret window display on Fifth Avenue, you’ll agree) for his art.
Now that Borat has conquered the weekend box-office, I imagine the movie will attract a bunch of viewers who have never heard of Sacha Baron Cohen, or Ali G, but who’ve read a blurb that calls this the “funniest movie of the year,” so they decide to see it instead of The Santa Clause 3. I’m glad I am not the movie theatre manager who has to explain satire to angry mobs and that yes, that’s what passes for entertainment these days. And I’m also glad for the Roxy, and for the miracle that brought us Borat on a rainy opening weekend in November.
P.S.
I wonder when Cohen will get famous enough that he won’t be able to pull off these interviews. I imagine he’ll have to retire Borat for a while, but he employs the brilliant tactic of almost never making public appearances as himself, thus protecting his characters. Here is a (fairly old but still funny) rare interview with Sacha Baron Cohen, as himself, on The Daily Show.
-We spent Halloween night eating mini Kit-Kats on the couch. We thought we had trick-or-treaters when someone rang our doorbell and sang a festive jingle, but when Jeff buzzed them in, they never appeared at our door. A drunk neighbor? An early Christmas caroler? A jolly burglar that heard the two woofing dogs on the ground floor and left?
-Sad news that William Styron, author of one of my favorite books, Sophie’s Choice
-Yesterday was a Bavarian holiday (All Saints’ Day) so Jeff had the day off and we drove to Wurzburg. They have a castle AND a palace there. And gusty winds that made me cranky. Remedied – the crankiness, not the winds – by a cup of creamy hot chocolate. See photos below.
-SCHNEE (snow, if you’ve just recently tuned in or you don’t speak German) on the rooftops this morning.