Germans are stupid. I’m allowed to say that. It’s a sign that I’m properly integrated into Austrian society. My boyfriend is German. He’s not stupid. But: Die Ausnahme bestätigt die Regel—The exception proves the rule. The people of this country have two words for Germans that aren’t very nice. Piefke and Saupreiß. The first one can’t be translated, it’s just a slur based on a famous German’s last name. The second means Pig-Prussian. I don’t say either. I’m still too American.
            The Amish in Lancaster shave their moustaches because they hate the Prussians so much. It’s a fashion statement. The warlords in Brandenburg that persecuted them during their time in Germany loved sporting a hairy upper lip. It was the 19th century, after all. The Amish still speak German. People call it Pennsylvanian Dutch, but it’s not what they speak in the Netherlands. The Amish came from the Rhinelands, the West Palatinate—Westpfalz, mostly.
            You can drive up to their markets and buy shoo-fly pies and apple butter. If you try to speak German to their daughters or sons at the cash register, the father comes to pull them away. Their brand of German is different from what people speak in the old countries. I can mostly understand what they say to each other. They must broadly get what I’m saying. Their brows still furrow in suspicion.       
            They probably think I’m a Prussian.