"Land of Tissues & Sneezes"

In America, everyone carries his or her own personal water bottle or coffee around. You’ll see people with them on the streets, in cars, on public transit, and in shopping malls and supermarkets. That’s not the case in Germany. A personal pack of tissues (or snot rag) is the norm; one must always keep some close by. It’s a foregone conclusion that a German will either sneeze or blow his nose in your presence. They can’t all have colds, can they?

"I’ve never seen so many people blowing their noses at one time,” I said.

"Ya have to get the stuff out,” said Kathleen, who proceeded to grab a tissue from her purse to blow her nose. I rolled my eyes as we otherwise sat quietly on the train en route to an unknown store on our perpetual shopping journey.

“But how come so much?” I asked. She complacently stared out the window as if never hearing my question. I would go on to address the German tissues and sneezes epidemic with her again. I would also end up just as perplexed as the day when I first asked the question. I’m afraid its real origin—its truth—is a closely guarded German secret. I don’t know that I’ll ever find my answer, but I’ll continue to be fascinated by the phenomenon.

The Germans have turned sneezing and nose blowing into an art form. It’s not uncommon to hear forceful, boisterous sneezing (I thought my father was the only person capable of such explosive sneezes) or blaring, horn-like nose blowing—anywhere, anytime, anyplace—in Deutschland. It’s ironic that one will get looked at funny for laughing or talking loudly on the train, but people don’t even bat an eyelash at someone who serves up the most frighteningly loud shriek of a sneeze. The little cherry on top is when you’re sitting next to someone who blows his nose, or sneezes, inches from your face. I know there’s not much room for creativity when you’re on the train, but there has to be a better way to ensure the civic responsibility of respecting your fellow man.

I’m a sniffler, otherwise known as the leper on the train when it comes to head colds or stuffed nasal passages. My tendency to give a little sniffle is by no means a blatant dismissal of my health and wellness. I blow my nose just like the next guy, but I don’t deem it necessary to have my nose engulfed in a handful of tissues like I’m recovering from a pistol whipping or a chloroform-soaked rag assault.

What’s the easiest way to spot an American on the train in Germany? Make note of where the sniffling is coming from, and it need only be one sniffle. A German would never sniffle, even on a bad day.

My main squeeze always makes sure we honor her cultural standard: a sneeze or a sniffle, what follows is a tissue; or, when in doubt, blow it out (okay, I made those up). There's also no shortage of tissues in our place. If there was ever a standoff between buying tissues or toilet paper, assuming we were short on money and needed both, there's no doubt in my mind the tissues would come out on top. I mean, you’d be hard pressed to find a citizen of Germany without a healthy supply of tissues. There really are a lot of germs floating around, and one certainly wouldn't want to disappoint the ENT specialist. Best blow that nose.

One time, I went to the bathroom on a whim and blew my nose. It was a clear-cut sign that I was starting to assimilate. I might’ve even appreciated it, too, because if I were back home in America, I would've wiped my nose on my shirtsleeve without hesitation and then continued watching my DVD episode of The Sopranos.