German TV fails to prepare for academic study

In a bid to immerse myself in German culture, I found myself turning to television (Fernsehen) quite regularly over the last three weeks. Having chewed my fingernails down to the quick looking for something to occupy my time (jobless and uni-less), I convinced myself that television was both a necessary relaxant and educational. What better way to fill the gaping hole left in my heart by The Biggest Loser Australia, learn the every day language and habits of the general German population, dabble in a little politics and keep up to date with current world disasters?

There are approximately 25 free-to-air channels on German television. The 16 German states each have their own station (I think), and many of these largely feature round-the-clock folk music, necessarily implying that there is a huge market for jolly groups of vocalists in medieval attire.  Unfortunately, my TV antenna only allows me to receive a total of three channels, or four if it's overcast and the antenna is precariously balanced on a pile of books near the window. All of these are news channels with programs that are pretty informative but downright depressing. Luckily, it didn't take long to find many of the other shows available on-line, including Germany's Next Top Model hosted by the delightful Heidi Kulm, to whom I can attribute a hefty portion of the vocab I've acquired over the last few weeks.

Each day equipped with dictionary and notebook to jot down cool expressions that make me sound like a local, I took to watching TV with a level of concentration usually reserved for preparing for uni exams. My routine consisted of around half an hour of news, 10-15 minutes of a science program called Galileo and an hour long reality show called 'We are Family' to round off my German education. The programs I quickly comprehended and therefore found myself viewing most regularly were shows that some refer to as "Unterschichtenfernsehen" literally, "lower class TV" - the shows that mostly involve people screaming at each other, teen pregnancy, disputed fatherhood and out of control kids. Within days my vocabulary book was stuffed with new expressions like "cheating on your partner" (fremd gehen), "indiscretion" (Seitensprung) and "delivery room" (Kreissaal). From Top Model, I became familiar with the words for "conceited" (eingebildet), "pleitschen" (to whip) and "glossy magazine" (hochglanzende Zeitschrift). A daily dose of German news and two special feature programs on Chernobyl also taught me all the vocab associated with nuclear reactors. With two vocab books filled in as many weeks, I felt I was making progress.

Unfortunately for me, but perhaps not unsurprisingly, so far almost none of these words have featured in ANY of the orientation lectures held at uni. I've found myself hesitating asking a fellow student what year of uni she's in, although I'd have absolutely no linguistic difficulty asking who the father of her baby is or whether she's considering artificial insemination. I became thoroughly confused yesterday when a Professor started talking about something called "Arbeitsgemeinschaften" which turned out to roughly mean "tutorial" and tripped over my tongue asking someone how I could put my timetable together. Meanwhile, no one seems inclined to discuss Libya or nuclear reactors over lunch and I just come across all tongue-tied and bashful trotting around the uni. Incidentally, television has since forcibly taken a backseat to everyday events such attending uni and cruising around Berlin on public transport with my brand-spanking new German concession card.

While German television may have let me down in my academic preparation, there is one particular technique that has so far proved fairly successful in honing my language skills. I subtly collect expressions overheard in supermarkets or from my lower class TV programs and then at various intervals, test them out on the German boyfriend (i.e. Daniel). He either looks at me admiringly and says that I "sounded really German" and I give myself a mental high-five or his mouth contorts and eyes widen in a scandalised stare at which point I make a mental note not to use that one in front of his parents.