Doors….

One of my TCK (third culture kid) ticks is that I like to observe and compare how things are done in different countries.  One of those things is the meaning and role of a door. 

One of our favorite cities in Corsica..

I grew up in France – a beautiful country with amazing food, loads of historical richness, and a lovely language. Some of you may have experienced some of these things, but not very many really get to experience the heart of a French home.  In order to get there you either need to enter via a gate through a big surrounding wall (which most likely restrains a barking German shepherd dog), or if you live in a city and visit someone in an apartment, you need to get by the “concierge” (which in my experience was already a challenge), only to be faced by two other sets of tightly locked doors before entering the home.  Oh yes…. you also needed to be invited in. Don’t just “pop on over”. If you are privileged to be invited in, the door will be opened, and then closed behind you.  Then you will be able to experience the amazing “finesses de France” and to enjoy a concert of the senses in the intricate and fine things.

On the front door of an Austrian friend

In Austria, a country only three hours drive from France you will have a very different experience. We had the privilege of living in a small mountain village near Salzburg for 14 years.  People would normally greet you with a polite smile, and if you got to know them a little more they would invite you to “Drop by for a visit anytime!”  Having grown up in France and the US where you didn’t show up unannounced, I initially waited for an “official invitation”.   It never came. They really meant it.  Most women worked from home and between 2-5pm were ready to welcome for you with a freshly baked cake. One could literally just show up and join in for “Kaffee und Kuchen”. In most homes you didn’t even have to knock on the door.  You could just walk in to the “Küche” and say “Grüass di”, be greeted with a big smile, and asked to join them at their “Eckbank”.  In my observation their kitchen was considered a semi-public place.  They would not ask you into the rest of their homes. That was too private, intimate, as many other aspects of their lives seemed to be to me as well.

Our front door the year we lived in Canada

When we moved to Canada for a year I was surprised at how very little seemed to be private there.  Doors could be opened from both the outside as well as from the inside. That year we would get invited over to people’s homes, and after general greetings one of the questions we were often asked was “Would you like to see our house?”  Well, I suppose the curious side of me did want to see their house, but I usually felt somewhat uncomfortable when they would show me their bedrooms or their bathroom. It was all open – there was nothing to hide. Typically there was even a big “Welcome Friends” sign on the door!

Enjoying a fun game of Settler of Catan around our Austrian Eckbank

 
Now I live in Germany – a safe, practical, well-structured country.  The houses are built of brick, stone, cement, and at times you might see some structural wood gables.  They are built to last hundreds of years, and so are their doors.  Beauty is also found here, but not in the extras or trends.  It is developed out of long-standing traditions, many seasons, and what has been well established.  It might take you a while to fulfill the required merit to be invited in (and you cannot get in without a key), but once you have, you can count on them to provide and care for you.

As an international family we have naturally taken on a mosaic style of life, adopting the particulars of the various cultures we have come to love and which have become a part of us. Therefore our “house door ” is a little schizophrenic.  I would like to think of our door as being safe, but instead of having a guard dog behind it, having a friendly people-loving puppy.  (Yes, we are getting a puppy!)  Also … if you happen to drop by for a visit, I probably won’t take you on a tour of the whole house, because it won’t be as clean as my German friends’ homes.   And you probably won’t get a freshly-baked cake, as I would have in Austria, but hopefully you would be invited in to sit around our fireplace and share a cup a coffee, a glass of water, and some cookies from “Aldi” with us.  If we are home we almost always have an extra bed for someone.

Phil playing chess at the refugee center near our house

Because of the huge recent influx of refugees seeking asylum in Germany, and because Germany has declared itself as having a  “Willkommenskultur” (Welcome culture) there is not a person living in this country currently who is not confronted with the question “What kind of “door” does my life have?  What is my “door culture?” All of a sudden, as hardly ever before, people are knocking on Germany’s doors!  How are we going to respond?

Our new friend Michelle from Cameron who has been in Germany since this summer

I have in these past months been challenged to ask myself “Do I really have the door I think I have? Does my “door” reflect the values I have chosen to live and stand up for?..Acceptance, hospitality, generosity, love, and more...How do I feel about really opening my door to these new people groups that are knocking here in Germany?”

 I hope and pray it does, but I realize I still have a ways to go. I need to be stretched first of all to get out from behind the safety of my “German door”, to make an effort and open it wider,not just that. To also do some purposeful inviting and welcoming in, to sit around ours or their fireplace and in a more Canadian like fashion maybe even unlock the more “private doors” of our lives...

Welcome to the Peters!