Hold on a second. There's a word for that?!

How would you describe these? Go ahead, do it. Out loud. If you're like me, the description probably sounded something like "Oh, I know what those are! Those are those little plastic things you stick in the wall before you put a screw in so that it doesn't fall out. You know what I'm talking about?!" You would probably have some idea of what I was talking about, and if you didn't, I could surely ramble on for long enough until you figured it out. But if you asked me to describe these guys using one word, there's no way that I'd be able to do it. In fact, I don't think there is anybody I know who could do it, at least not in English. But Germans, they're different. They all recognize instantly these stick-them-in-the-wall things as "Döbel."

I wasn't too surprised when Hans Hummer, the wood shop teacher at school, knew the word for those plastic thingamabobs. He is, after all, a carpenter - it's only to be expected. I was at the hardware store with the teacher I carpool with when she busted out "Döbel" in reference to the materials I would need to build my own suspension closet (which up to this point has only resulted in a mine field of holes in my ceiling and my clothes are still draped over the back of my armchair). I was a bit taken aback that an occupational therapist would know the work for those screw holder whatchamacallits, but in thinking about it, she told me that she used to be a wood worker before she started giving therapy. It made enough sense. But when my roommate Vicky asked me if I had bought "Döbel" after having looked at my pathetic attempt to fasten hooks to the ceiling for my closet, I just about flipped out. If you're somehow reading this Vicky, don't take offense. In fact, it's probably more of a compliment. How does a 24 year old studying law who almost certainly has no experience with drywall construction know the name for these godforsaken little nubs?! Nobody knows that in English! I then took it upon myself to carry around a Döbel in my pocket for the next week and ask people at random if they knew what it was that I had in my hand. The only person who didn't know what they were called was a co-worker named Elizabeth, but she almost doesn't even count because she's from Poland and she spent 54 years of her life without having tried peanutbutter. Indeed an outlier.

So what is the point of my Döbel anecdote? Is it just a way for me to rant and rave about something that I had a hard time believing to be true? Partially. But also, it is a representation of a phenomenon that happens to me here in Germany quite regularly. Take something which we can't exactly express in English with a concise word or phrase, whether a thing, an idea or a feeling, and you're likely to find a word for it in German. Here a are a couple examples:

Schadenfreude - (n). the sadistic pleasure that you get from somebody else's pain or discomfort; also rarely seen in the verb form schadenfreuden which can be understood in the following context: Ach, Wolfgang, warum schadenfreudest du so gern? {Geez-o Wolfgang, how come you enjoy seeing other people in pain, agony, discomfort or all of the above?}

Fremdschämen - (n). the feeling of being embarrassed for somebody else.

Vorfuhreffekt - (n). when something happens/exists in your presence, but then when you want/need to show somebody else that same thing, it isn't there. For example, you're 1992 Subaru Legacy with the shattered back window is making a rattling noise when you accelerate and turn at the same time, but when you take a mechanic for a ride to show him what you're talking about, what is normally your POS car rides like a dream. Or how about when you make that mental list of movies that you want to watch, but when you walk into the video store, you have no idea what it was that you wanted to see, so you end up walking out with Super Troopers for the sixth time.

Gräbele/Besucherritze - (n). the crack between to twin mattresses pushed together.

Verschlimmbessern - (v). in an attempt to make something better, you unintentionally make it worse.

Montagsauto - (n). a poorly produced product or good. It's translated literally as "Monday car" with the theory behind it behind that a poorly made car was probably on the assembly line on Monday when the workers were still half asleep/hungover from the weekend.

Donaudampfschiffahrtsgesellshaftskapitän - (n). Captain of a steam ship in the Donau River Shipping Company. You may not believe it, but I find myself needing this word on a daily basis. ;)

This element of German makes it an exciting, but difficult language. Some estimates put the average daily vocabulary of a German to be about six times that of the average American. There is a word for basically everything, so descriptions become very specific very fast which I find to be exhilarating - it cuts down significantly on blabbering time and people the know exactly what you mean. Besides "jaywalking", I haven't discovered any of these ridiculously specific words in English, and I think that this specificity is going to be something I really miss when I go back to the English speaking world.

Until then, I'm going to enjoying being able to laugh at someone slipping and falling in the snow and having to use only one word to justify the fact that I found it funny, although I don't necessarily like the fact that Andrea may have twisted and hurt her ankle in the cobblestone.

By the way, Döbel does have a one word translation in English: chubs. Seriously?