Welcome back, my little Ausländer.

I’ve been watching you these past few years. You’ve integrated very well, indeed. You’re a credit to this fine nation, blending inconspicuously amongst its Dichter, Denker, and Döner. You’re separating your plastic from your paper and your Akkusativ from your Dativ with great aplomb. As a result, you might be surprised to hear from me again. We’re done, Adam, aren’t we? I’ve integrated your first fifty steps into my Alltag. You should see how many ways I can prepare potato, Adam. How long it’s been since I drank liquid that didn’t fizz. How many new qualifications and insurances I now have. I never resist a chance to klugscheiß…

Not so fast.

The work of cultural assimilation never ends. It’s a lifelong commitment. Just when you think you’ve got a handle on a nation’s psyche, it squirms out of your grasp and runs off to reinvent itself once again. This is especially true here, in our beloved fatherland. It’s only been three years since How to Be German 1 took its place on the bestsellers list, and yet already so much has changed:

1. In a desperate attempt to re-brand themselves as anything other than efficient, frugal engineering marvels, the German government initiated some of the most spectacularly inept development projects in recent history—namely The Hamburg Philharmonic and The BER Airport. Collectively, these projects are years and billions over budget. An expensive anti-PR initiative, some might say, which perhaps tells you how being seen as the planet’s most ordentliche people can really get to you after a while.

2. Deciding to kick itself while it was down, Germany then crashed the world’s faith in its auto industry. The home of car makers, car lovers, and carnivores learnt that Volkswagen had been cheating on its emission tests, deliberately over-poisoning the Umwelt. The response was, well, mostly bafflement. We put down our Bionade, finished sorting our Altpapier from our Plastik and looked on, confused as to why this sort of nonsense was happening here. To us. And not in the USA where it would at least have been expected.

3. In a remarkable act of unexpected reasonableness, Germany responded to 2015’s humanitarian crisis (in which so many others lost their heads) by becoming the wir schaffen das nation. While other countries strafed to the right, building new walls and fences, Germany continued pulling them down, opening its doors, tents, and (most) of its hearts as a million new citizens arrived—citizens attracted to the strong legal and social systems, quality of life, lack of devastating civil war, and Bielefeld.

4. Germany’s far right, largely in response to this sudden influx of new, often bearded Mitbewohner, mobilised itself on the streets of Dresden under the banner of PEGIDA, and did some marching. Marching that then spread out to other cities, towns, and social media, where, ironically, it did succeed in exiling something—cute cat videos and selfies from our previously less politicised Facebook timelines. It got serious. There was hate. Lots of hate.

5. Angela Merkel was voted Time person of the year. The New York Times said, “There’s a new can-do nation. It’s called Germany.” The Economist trumped that with, “If a country can ever be said to be good, Germany today can.” Außenpolitik clashed with Innere Angst as eighty million Germans were left bemused by this sudden, un-forecasted praise tsunami, assuming it would pass and they could return once again to the more comfortable position of repentant former bad guys.

In short, it’s just as fascinating a time to be trying to understand Germany as when the first book came out. Actually, even more so, since, with the basics already covered in book 1, we’re free to cancel the holiday to Malle, kick off our Jack Wolfskin shrousers, put down our cold glass of Apfelsaftschorle and swim out from the shallower Teutonic stereotypes into the darker, murkier, deeper waters of the German psyche. Accordingly, the fifty steps that follow are a little more complicated and subtle than those of the first book. Maybe a few less of the natives will admit to them. But they’re all there, if you look closely and prod a little more forcefully. After all, we’re not Anfänger anymore, Ausländer. This is the Profi edition. It’s time to step it up a bit.

Don’t worry, wir schaffen das…

P. S. Oh, and Germany also won another major football tournament! A little bit greedy now, guys.

I would never say that Germans are less emotional than other nations. To typecast eighty million people like that? Never. Absolute no-go. However… now, wait, hear me out… while Germans have emotional lives just as dramatic, fantastic, and varied as anyone else on the planet, I would say that they’re much less inclined to show it via their faces. The German Nationalgesicht, if there were such a thing, would be a poker face—a restrained expression that gives away as little as possible. If the eyes really are the windows to the soul, the German window comes equipped with Rollos.

It’s not that Germans don’t smile, or gesticulate with their hands when lost in explanation or emotion. They just want those physical expressions—when they do bring them out of the bag—to have an impact. If everyone just went around giving smiles out total kostenlos because they’ve found a euro on the ground, or it’s only two days until the weekend, or they are thinking about a loved one—well, that could weaken the whole emotional economy! People might begin smiling at even the smallest provocation and everyone else would, in turn, be forced to keep up, and that could trigger Hyper Emotion Inflation. There’s been more than enough hyper-inflation in this country already, thank you very much. We might become Italy, where buying a loaf of bread requires a fifteen-minute-long mime performance. No, that won’t do. To be German is to be an M&M—hard on the outside, soft in the middle.

Of course, all this might be a problem for you, what with your Migrationshintergrund. Rein it in, buddy! Because living here is awesome, you might be tempted to show that by turning your mouth up at the edges, or widening your eyes in a commonly accepted display of joy, wonder, and happiness. Don’t, Poker Face.

Brevity is not just about the face. While some cultures might rush to fill their sentences and silences with inane chatter, here, people have realised that there is a certain noble beauty to brevity. Just because you’re out with your Ehepartner in a restaurant doesn’t mean you have to talk to each other. What have you to say that you’ve not already said? Exactly. Nothing. Just because you have had a feeling, it doesn’t mean you should automatically feel a need to share it. Everyone has feelings. Big deal. See someone you know in the Hof? Don’t have an awkward conversation about the weather. Just “Guten Tag” them and get on with your day. So what if they’re your next-door neighbour? There will be plenty of other chances to talk to them then, won’t there? You might have heard the English expression “loose lips sink ships.” Here, it’s more like “loose lips sink friendships.”

Because words are precious, don’t cheapen them with poly-sentence-filla. Short and sweet is fine. If there’s not enough time for that, just go with short. Short and sour usually also works, in case you’re wondering. I could say more, but really, why? Let’s stop here and both enjoy the beauty of brevity. Ende der Diskussion.