Annexation

The year was 1945 when Russia annexed eastern Germany. Sixty-nine years have passed since then, and few of us who experienced the annexation are still alive. Yet those who are, remember it as if it were yesterday. It was a Russian “check-mate” move like no other. The Russians are experts at chess.

During the preceding twelve years Hitler had battered the German people into total submission. It was easy for the Soviets to become the new master, especially since most people of means and education had fled or were being exterminated.

Law and order vanished overnight. No person or object was safe—not anywhere. Scientists and inventors were the first to be dragged from their beds and shipped to Russia. Doctors and nurses, among them father’s young sister, went next, as well as hospital equipment and beds.

The Czechs had driven us—mother, our pretty au pair and us children—from our mountain cabin with nothing but the clothes we wore. We had taken refuge there from the nightly air raids in the city. 

The Czech soldiers had stormed into our cabin unexpectedly. We had to stand against the wall with our hands above our head, and stared down their gun barrels. Yet mother chatted with them amicably as if they were visitors. They searched the house, and miraculously, none of the soldiers touched us. One of them even escorted us safely to the border that led into East Germany. I still think of them with gratitude.

We hurried to the next village, the Ski Resort Oberwiesental. There, a compassionate hotel owner who remembered mother from better days took us in.

“Don’t open the windows or curtains,” she warned us. “My friend down the street was shot dead this morning while he was using the open window pane as a mirror to shave himself. Soldiers took his mirrors a few days ago.”

So we children watched life from behind the curtains. We had no books, no toys and felt like prisoners in our room we couldn’t leave. Yet the world outside was much too dangerous.

We watched as the Russians marched groups of civilians down the street. We saw them poke people who were passing by with their guns and push them into their group. Where were they taking them? No one knew. They disappeared and never came back.

Sometimes it was women and children they herded away, but I’d rather not dwell upon those memories.

We saw German women guarded by armed soldiers drive cattle and goats past our window. “They are on their way to Russia,” it was murmured, and later confirmed.

When East German schools reopened, Russian became the only language that was taught. However, in the three neighboring countries, Estonia, Latvia, and Lithuania that were annexed earlier, Russian became the only language that was allowed to be spoken in school.

When the long-interrupted mail service eventually resumed, letters took months to get in or out of East Germany; Russian censors were analyzing them first. Some letters made it across the border, some did not, and some had passages that were thoroughly blackened out. So letter writers took to veiling their messages to get past the censors. It became quite an art. I’m glad to live in the Land of the Free, where there is hope that the sanctity and privacy of our electronic mail will be restored one day.

Precarious as it was, we managed to escape to West Germany. An incredible adventure, but we made it—you may have read about it in The Madman & His Mistress.

We were East German refugees now, and deeply despised by the West Germans. We competed for their shelter and food, and there was not enough to go around. Years of severe hunger and deprivation!  But thanks to the Marshall Plan that fed us starving children a heavenly noodle soup at lunchtime we survived and we were free.

Many years later, as luck would have it, a scholarship brought me to the United States (and my first good meal). What a blessing to live in these United States of America, a country that does not lie in the path of annexation.

Until next time,

Rosi

Empathy

Empathy is the ability to perceive the joy or pain of another person and share these feelings as if they were our own.

Maxi, our beloved German Shepherd, had extraordinary empathy. When we children came home from school disheartened and depressed, Maxi would sadly hang his head and lick our hands consolingly. But when we came home with big smiles because it was Friday, he’d jump and run, wagging his tail with joy.

The memory still brings tears to my eyes because one day a Nazi official came to take him away. He was to be sent to the front—World War II was raging. Maxi was the only friend we had in whom we could confide our pain of always being hungry and cold or being beaten by our teachers for no reason at all. Merciless informers were everywhere, and complaining was strictly forbidden.

The capacity for empathy varies widely. Women tend to be more empathetic than men. Some adults may be totally lacking it, while some small children can show amazing discernment. When my daughter was a few months old, a visitor came. She took a glance at the baby and then gushed forth in exuberant praise, so insincere that even the baby perceived it. When the woman tried to pat her, the baby turned away and cried.

Empathy goes a step further than sympathy. While a sympathetic person feels compassion and pity, an empathetic person will actually feel the pain as if it were her own. In times of deep distress an empathetic friend who will share our grief can be of great solace.

When a good friend has lost a loved one, we may feel at a loss for words. Empathy may provide an answer—to share the feelings, share the sadness, share the silence or tears. A bereaved person does not want to be cheered up or hear platitudes, such as time heals all wounds. It is better to speak loving words of the deceased or quietly share the pain.

Time does heal many wounds, but not all. When it comes to the pain of losing a child, time cannot heal that pain; at best it can help a person to slowly become accustomed to the loss. With empathy we can reach out and touch a person, not just with our hands or with our words, but with our heart.

At times and in varying degrees we all need empathy—someone who will try to understand us and share our feelings.

Until next time,

Rosi

You are your Universe

Now that scientists have glimpsed the first whisperings of our universe—a trillionth of a second after it was born with supposedly a Big Bang, scientists are more willing to accept the idea of multiple and parallel universes. I like the idea of infinite space and infinite time. It eliminates the awkward question of what may be hidden beyond our Universe and what came before there was Time.

Not so long ago we thought of ourselves and mother Earth as the very center of the universe. Eventually though we came to admit that we are just a planet in a solar system, and not even a big planet. Now we know there are millions of solar systems and each is part of a giant galaxy. At night, when we look at a star-lit sky, we realize that there are millions and millions of galaxies traveling through space.

What actually is a universe? We can think of it as an independent body that functions on its own, yet has many ties and interconnections with the world around it.

Look at your dog. Isn’t he a universe unto himself too? He may be dependent on us for food and shelter, but he’s still autonomous. Do we really know what he thinks and what he feels? His eyes and tail communicate well his joy when we come home, or when we feed and walk him. But he still is himself, a world of his own.

It’s the same when you consider your child. Let me call her Ann so we can omit the he-or-she, him-or-her references. Ann may have her mother’s dimples, and her father’s temper, her grandfather’s musical talent and her grandma’s freckles, but she is not one of you. She is her own individual self, at times difficult to fathom even by her. She is her own universe.

And this brings us to ourselves. We are all a universe unto ourselves. Not two of us are alike. We all consist of blood and bones, and yet we are of such complexity and differences that doctors and researchers are constantly baffled. In addition, each of us is host to a microbiome of thousands of different species of life, all categorized as bacteria. The present estimate is about a hundred trillion of them. Each person may hear, see, feel and taste the same thing, and yet we form our own impressions, our own memories, our own thoughts.

We can never totally understand another person, but we can empathize. Empathy can help us to understand someone and to learn more about our species.

Likewise, no one can truly understand us, even though at times we wish someone would. Yet no one has ever walked in our shoes and experienced what we have. Each of us is a universe unto him- or herself. It may be tough to accept, and yet it is good to know that we are autonomous. It makes us more willing to accept others. They too are on their own, just like we are. The mere recognition of the autonomy of each person imbues us with a deep sense of respect for other human beings, each one another universe. In the parlance of our younger generation, it’s AWESOME. 

Until next time,

Rosi

Patience

Some of us are the action type; we like to do things now; we don’t like to wait. Others gladly put things off as long as they can. There is a happy balance, though, a time to be patient and a time to act.

We live in an age where every minute counts. We have cell phones that provide instantaneous communication. We tightly schedule every day of the week. Waiting two minutes for our computer to boot up may seem like an eternity.

Patience stands in stark contrast to what modern life expects of us. Hurry, hurry seems to be more in line with modern life. Yet patience is considered one of the great virtues. It is a tough virtue to master, though, especially today.

What is patience?

To be patient means to endure something without complaining, such as getting over the flu. How poor are they that have not patience! What wound did ever heal but by degrees, as Shakespeare wrote. Impatience accomplishes nothing. It often causes more harm than good. It is far better to take life with equanimity and patience, admonished Carl Jung, the great psychologist.

It may mean waiting for the right time. There’s a time for everything. You may be eager to ask for a raise, but ask yourself first, “Can I point to my improved skills? Have I contributed in some way to our department’s smooth functioning?” Don’t pick a day when your boss has other worries.

Why practice patience?

Because patience builds character. Not overnight, but over time. As an old proverb says, Rome was not built in a day.  Character makes a person stand out. The patience that built your character ensures that you can control your temper and successfully cope with adversity. It is a measure of your maturity.

A bit of patience is a great companion to guide us through life. It will guard us from a host of ills, such as headaches, tension, stress, indigestion, and annoyance, all caused by impatience. None of these will ever contribute to our success, health, or happiness.

In Lao Tzu’s words, I have just three things to teach: simplicity, patience and compassion. These three are your greatest treasures. -

Tainted Chicken Meat

My brother lent me Consumer Reports, which led me to subscribe to the magazine. It was their February 2014 report on chickens that did it.

It never occurred to me that a natural or cage-free chicken, or even an organic one could be tainted with salmonella. But this is exactly what Consumer Report discovered. They tested the chicken breasts of all brands, including the major four—Perdue, Pilgrim’s, Sanderson Farms and Tyson, and found that all of them were tainted by similar amounts of bacteria.

National statistics show that every year 48 million people become victims of contaminated food. Chicken meat is a major cause. The reason is that nearly all chickens carry salmonella in their intestines. It does no harm to the chickens, but when they get slaughtered—nine billion chickens a year—the meat gets easily contaminated.

Salmonella comes in a vast variety of strains; it can cause nausea, severe cramps, diarrhea, low fever, pneumonia, urinary infections, and the like. Most worrisome is the strain that is resistant to antibiotics, found in 49.7% of all chickens tested.

What to do: Handle raw chicken meat with caution. It is perfectly safe to eat when it’s been heated to 165º. Use a meat thermometer. Even more important, do not let raw chicken meat get too close to any other food. If your hands have touched chicken meat and you pick up the phone or open a drawer, the bacteria that you transfer from your hands continues to live for hours, even days. So be sure to soap your hands thoroughly, also anything that comes in contact with the raw meat.

By the way, among the fried chickens that Consumer Report tested, Costco’s chicken ranked as the tastiest and best.

Chicken labels: Consumer Reports also decoded various chicken labels. Did you know that cage-free, natural and free-range are meaningless labels? There are no set standards, nor required inspections.

No Antibiotics means just that, a chicken raised without antibiotics. In the 1940s, farmers discovered that chickens that were on antibiotics for medical reasons grew faster. Before long, all chickens were fed antibiotics, but it did not turn out to be cost-effective. Chickens that are regularly given antibiotics become antibiotic-resistant and do not necessarily grow faster anymore. Worse, antibiotic-resistant chickens carry antibiotic resistant salmonella, which is of great concern since the patient can no longer be treated with antibiotics.

Therefore, choosing a chicken raised without antibiotics is a better choice; the chicken has no antibiotic resistant salmonella.

No hormones is a superfluous claim, since no US chicken is allowed to be given hormones.

The label, No GMOs VERIFIED means that the chicken feed contains less than 0.9% genetically modified crops. It is important that the label says verified.

Pasture-raised chickens that are Animal Welfare Approved, are raised on green pastures. Unfortunately, very few stores carry them.

Certified Humane chickens are raised in accordance with Human Farm Animal Care standards and are annually inspected. Standards pertain to the animals’ environment and stress-causing factors.

USDA Organic chickens, my favorite choice, are fed a vegetarian diet without GMO’s, antibiotics or toxic pesticides. Access to the out of doors is required but not standardized. Annual inspection is required.

Knowing the potential dangers of raw chicken meat, I simply use greater caution: I heat the meat to 165º, and thoroughly soap my hands as well as any objects that directly or indirectly come in contact with the raw meat. I still delight in a tasty chicken, especially if I prepare it myself. However, if I didn’t prepare it, I make sure the meat is no longer pink, but is well done.

Until next time,

Rosi

Anger

We all get incensed at times. Yet anger ages us faster than any other emotion.

Anger is often justified. Our friends may even encourage us to freely vent our feelings to relieve the stress anger causes.

Yet we’re better off not to stomp and shout. Our relief is only momentary, while the consequences can be long lasting. Besides, our anger can burst forth again whenever we recall the incident or the person who caused it.

Also, venting one’s anger can easily become a habit—not an attractive habit, and tough to break.

Worse, angry outbursts cause persons to lose control over their actions—they become dangerous not only to themselves but also to others. Imagine driving a car while in a rage. When we are furious we lose power and control to the person who caused the anger—often to the perpetrator’s great delight! It’s better to focus on the steps necessary to salvage the situation.

Don’t simply repress your anger either. Unwittingly, you may take it out on an innocent person, such as your spouse or child.

It’s better to find a way to deal with the underlying unfairness or unmet need. Recall the last incident that made you angry. Could you have handled it better? It’s often the same type of incident in different guises that triggers us. By practicing better ways of reacting we can change our behavior.

In some situations we want to consider what may have driven the other person to act the way he or she did. We are all human and far from perfect.

Often our anger is caused by a situation that is beyond our control—a canceled flight, an ugly dent in our parked car, heavy traffic when in a rush. Did our anger improve the situation? If not, recall Mark Twain’s wise words, “If we don’t learn to laugh about our troubles, we have nothing to laugh about in our old age.”

With my best wishes for a healthy and peaceful 2014,

Rosi

Gratitude

Thanksgiving has come and gone. Only the memories remain, memories of a family get-to-gether and a delicious, big meal. The turkey, maybe the meal itself, has become a symbol of Thanksgiving.

In the hustle and bustle of preparations for Thanksgiving Day we sometimes forget what the day was meant to be for—to give thanks for having survived another year.

After years of prosperity, we have become complacent about our life of ease and abundance. Sometimes one can detect even a trace of entitlement.

Is gratitude going out of style?

I don’t think so.        

Gratitude is a basic human courtesy. Cicero goes a step further, he says: “Gratitude is not only the greatest of virtues, but the parent of all others.”

When someone renders us a kindness, it’s not for the sake of a thank you. Yet when the recipient of the kindness shows a total lack of appreciation, it cools the giver’s heart. Why should he bother again if the recipient does not care? Indifference puts off kindness. Gratitude encourages it.

Our mothers used to ask us: “Have you written your thank you notes yet?” Today, we have cell phones and email, a great boon for showing gratitude. Perhaps it is not as formal as a written note, but it will be appreciated just the same, especially if  done promptly.

Young children tend to be totally absorbed by a gift, and remain oblivious of the need to thank the giver. It is vital to teach children the art of gratitude, especially when we assume that gratitude is the parent of all other virtues.

Gratitude is at its best when it becomes part of our attitude toward life itself; when we no longer take our blessings for granted, but have gained a daily awareness of them that fills us with joy and confidence.

Grateful people radiate serenity and contentment no matter what the day may bring.

There is much to be thankful for—the beauty of this world, the food on our table, the happy face of a child, and the simple fact of being alive.

Kahil Gibran sums it up in The Prophet: “You pray in your distress and in your need; would that you might pray also in the fullness of your joy and in your days of abundance.”

Until next time,

Rosi