Adventures in Ethnographic Fieldwork: German Edition

​An anecdotal tale of my ethnographic fieldwork in Germany, in which I would attempt to get to the heart of the refugee crisis, but uncover something else entirely   . . . 

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An Immigrant Tale in an Otherwise Seedy Environment

It was during an anthropology class in ethnographic fieldwork that I had the opportunity to go abroad and practice my skills. The assignment was simple, to find a person whose native language is not English, conduct a fairly lengthy interview, and then transcribe the entire interaction. One of my cousins was living in Germany at the time, and I had been meaning to visit. Both of these factors combined presented an excellent excuse to escape to Europe for a bit. 

It was in the midst of the immigration crisis, and I thought this was a great chance to get the perspective of a refugee. At first this seemed like an easy task, as panhandlers seemed to be abundant around the metro stations. They would immediately approach me with a greeting in English, followed by stating their need for assistance. I decided that any one of one of these may prove to be an excellent ethnographic specimen. The problem was that whenever I would ask for a favor in return, they would clam up and suddenly claim “no English”.

The more I watched, the more curious I began to grow about these young refugees. They didn't fit the typical image one would conjure when thinking about a person in such a predicament. Most were well dressed, clean, and armed with smartphones. They seemed to be coordinating with one another while working the crowds. But they would have nothing to do with me, other than ask for money. 
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I was getting frustrated and beginning to wonder if I would even succeed in my simple task. I temporarily put it all out of my mind and spent the night bar hopping to drown my sorrows. Up ahead was a side street displaying a ridiculous amount of neon. As I turned the corner, I found myself between a long row of window girls. Waving and knocking at the glass, they seemed desperate to get me inside. I have to admit, I was a bit unnerved by this sight, as many of these girls presented looks of extreme despair. It was nothing like you would see in the movies. This was real life and I could only imagine it to be the tip of the iceberg in a world that most would never know. 
 
I was in desperate need of a restroom, not a companion. ​At the end of the alleyway was a small building marked with a neon red sign that simply read "BAR". I darted in the door and grabbed a barstool. As I sat there, I couldn't help but notice that the televisions were all playing vintage porn. Only one other person was present in this somewhat odd establishment - an old man sitting at the end of the bar smoking a cigarette, otherwise motionless. 

A young lady dressed in lingerie soon approached from the back, parting her way through the beaded curtains. I ordered a beer and then immediately asked for directions to the restroom. The beer was expensive, about fifteen euros. I was extremely relieved after emptying my bladder, but sipped slowly on the beer while planning my next move. It was at that point that I jokingly thought to myself, "If nothing else I could pay one of those window girls for an interview".

I was about half way through my beer when the bartender introduced herself as Tatiana from Poland. She began to chat, asking me the basic small talk questions. Her English was impressive, as she told me about herself and that she was fluent in six languages. We talked for quite some time, and I'm sure she realized that I had no intention to purchase another drink. Eventually I began to grow hungry and though the conversation had been pleasant, I bid her goodnight and left to grab a bite to eat. 

I awoke later than planned the next morning and hit the town to find a participant for my fieldwork. The town was lively. It seemed some kind of protest was taking place along the pedestrian street that bisects the downtown. The picket signs display lettering that appeared to be Arabic. "This is perfect", I thought to myself. I sat down on a bench to watch for a bit and gain a perspective on what was actually going on. 

I couldn't make much sense of the situation, so I started to walk on down the street placing myself a bit closer to the action. A male and a female quickly approached me. It seemed they wanted me to sign a petition. I tried explaining to them that I did not live in the area. Two officers then motioned for me. The couple backed off, as one of the officers nicely explained, "Best not to get involved". I was beginning to get desperate. There was one point where the thought even crossed my mind to pay a cab driver to escort me around while talking into my recorder. Something would surely have to present itself. 

I strolled on, feeling defeated. With my spirits low, I decided to play tourist for a while and visit a couple of museums. The day was getting late after my sightseeing excursion. I began to make my way back up the boulevard when an Irish pub caught my eye. I know what you are thinking, "Why would you visit an Irish pub in Germany. The answer is: I don't know why, I just did. The place was packed, but I managed to find a seat at the bar. The bartender girl was young, gorgeous, and lively. She brought me my Guinness and quickly disappeared. I kept thinking, "If only she were as friendly as Tatiana". That's when it hit me, "Tatiana was the perfect interviewee". I downed my beer and headed out the door. "Please be there", I kept thinking as I rushed across town on foot. 

I anxiously opened the door, but was then immediately relieved to see her standing behind the bar. No one else was there and she actually seemed excited to see me. Ordering another overpriced beer, I took my seat at the bar. She began to talk, when I stopped her to admit why I had returned. I explained to her my assignment and how she was the perfect fit. She seemed pleased to help, and recommended that we move to a booth to be more comfortable. I started my recording device and we began to conversate. We talked for nearly an hour. As it turns out she was an immigrant who had left home in search of a better life. She had lived in several countries, acquiring many different skills and perspectives. This wasn't the story that I had looked for, but it was the story that I had found - it was perfect. 

One of the greatest insights she provided in this interview shed a bit of light on the current immigration issues. She explained that many of these young refugees were not actually poor, but wealthy kids from Turkey that come to Europe as travelers to take advantage of the crisis. While in the European Union they would receive healthcare, housing, and even financial assistance from the local governments - basically a free gap year experience. With this information, I felt like I had hit the jackpot by truly uncovering something. 

Eventually the conversation drew to a close, but I felt as if I could have talked to Tatiana indefinitely. I thanked her for her time and gave her a nice tip for the beverage. She then kissed me on the cheek as I turned to leave. I felt victorious as I strolled back to the town center, totally high on life. I'm still not sure if this amazing feeling was due to completing my first assignment abroad, or from the kiss of the beautiful Polish immigrant that helped me to succeed in my studies.