Health Insurance and Weizenbier

For about the first half of my 20 year visit here in Germany people always asked me one of three questions upon meeting me:
“Man, how could you move from Southern California to Germany?”
The multitude of innuendoes with this question, at least my interpretation thereof, included the assumption that life in Southern California with it’s weather, beaches and movie stars, can not be topped. By leaving all that for cold, rainy, grey Germany I must be a bit crazy.
“When are you going to go back to America?”
The innuendos here were not very subtle. Certainly, my new friends must have thought, I wasn’t planning on staying here. At the time I didn’t think of it in this way, but it’s not a very welcoming question to pose to a potential immigrant.
“How did you learn German so well?”
In retrospect this question is also full of subtle allusions. Why, for one, would people so often be surprised by my almost fluent German? Could one reason be that so many immigrants to Germany speak such poor German? A lot of them do, I must admit. Many Americans I have met here have a pretty heavy accent. It’s particularly difficult for US Americans to adopt to the soft, partially rolled “r” typical to German. The stark American “err” is common and does little to help reduce the German’s joking about Americans speaking as if they had chewing gum in their mouths.
I don’t mean to make it all sound so terrible. The Germans are actually not that bad. My encounters with Germans (you run into them all over the place here) have been overwhelmingly positive. I’ve tried to give up judging a population and basing my impressions on my experiences. I am pretty sure, at any rate, that the questions a German immigrant in America is confronted with are quite different.
Anyways, having been so often asked when I’m going back “home” and why I moved here has made me continually reflect on the question of my life here in Germany. Why have I remained here for so long? Am I happy here? What would my life be like if I were in the US. I won’t go into all those questions here. That could get boring. I would, however, like to mention one issue that often pops into my head when I compare life here with life in the US.
Health insurance! Yes, it’s health insurance that always came to mind when someone asked me why I don’t want to move back to the US. Funny, huh! I was a young man upon first arriving in Germany (I mean, I’m still young, but back then I was r e a l l y young.) I was in my early twenties, going to college, traveling Europe with my girlfriend, why would health insurance come to mind. Wouldn’t the main advantages I would have perceived been things like free college education, easy and inexpensive travel opportunities to places like Paris, Rome and Amsterdam? Or what about the Oktoberfest, Bratwurst and the Black Forest? Admittedly those fringe benefits have been enjoyable (except for the Oktoberfest). Other, less exotic things, though, have also kept me from fleeing back across the Atlantic to Mom, baseball and apple pie.
The frequent visits to my village doctor convinced me that the Old World had something to offer that I would not find back home. It’s called universal health care and it’s as normal here as Weizenbier. After moving out of the student dorms, I lived in a small village a few miles outside of Tübingen with my girlfriend. We had a small flat with a big view of the surrounding farmland and forests. The population was around 2000. A two-lane highway cut through the center of the village, forming an unnatural division. To get to Dr. Möck I had to push the pedestrian walk button and wait for the traffic light to switch. The strong sense of social control prevented me from even considering darting across before the light switched. I had learned a tough lesson about jaywalking within a few weeks of arrival. At a busy intersection in the main city I crossed another two lane street on red after having seen that no cars were coming. As I safely reached the other side a small boy, perhaps 10, stood in front of my path and literally yelled at me “Denken Sie nicht an die Kinder?”, “Why don’t you think about the children?” My German wasn’t very good yet, but I immediately got the essence of his outrage. I was a bad example for the children by crossing the street on red. This social component of life here was a hard lesson for a California kid like me.
I enjoyed my visits to my village doctor. His practice was in the second floor of a residential house, certainly a century old. The creaky sound of the steps leading up to his practice and the wooden beams on the ceiling of the waiting room gave proof of this. The doctor’s friendly eyes, set behind his round, wire-framed glasses, helped me relax. “So, what’s bothering you”, he asked. “Oh not much. I have been having stomach aches lately and was wondering if you had something for me”, I asked. “Tell me about your diet”, he asked. I told him that I’ve been a vegetarian for about a year and have even experimented with a vegan diet. He was surprised about that and said that I should consider eating some animal products. “One shouldn’t go to extremes”, he recommended. When I told him I didn’t even eat eggs, he urged me to give them another try. “Eggs are full of essential vitamins and minerals”, he explained.
I left his office that day, took a long walk through the cold, dark forest and concluded to loosen my stringent diet. I became a part-time vegetarian. This may not be the best proof of a functioning health care system, but it was my first introduction to one and for me it was convincing. Whenever I felt sick, at least more sick than just the normal cold or flu, I didn’t hesitate to go visit my Dr. Möck. I must admit, in my first year in Germany I went to the doctor more than my previous 10 years in the US. After the first couple years of euphoric free doctor visiting, my visits slowed down dramatically. Now, twenty years later, doctors visits are still free (since about 2 years patients must pay an 8 dollar “practice fee” when visiting a doctor) and I still enjoy going to my “house doctor”, as they call them here. I haven’t been to him, though, in ages. The last time was about 2 years ago when I injured my knee playing soccer. I certainly belong to the percentile of the population who pays in way more than they take out. I don’t, however, have any qualms about that. Perhaps one day someone in my family will be unlucky enough to need expensive medical care.
14,5% of my pre tax monthly paycheck goes to my health insurance plan. My employer is required by law to match that amount. This percentile is the same across the board, regardless of age, geography, genetic disorders, whatever. It is a lot of money, but apparently way less than what the typical American pays. It’s important to note that my insurance plan is mandatory and it covers basically everything (homeopathy, Bach Flowers and acupuncture are, unfortunately, not included). My three kids are covered, my wife is covered through her employer. We as a family basically do not have any concerns that if someone gets sick we will run into financial difficulties. Adults do have to pay for a certain percentage of prescription drugs, children are do not.
I am not too familiar with the situation in the US. It’s been a long time since I’ve lived there and lots has changed in those year. I was quite shocked, however, to hear of a friend in the US who had to pay for the hospital costs of her child’s birth. That concept is totally unthinkable for a German. On a radio program I heard the story of a family who was forced to sell their house and move into their car in order to pay their medical bills.
Perhaps these are exaggerated anecdotes. As far as I can tell, though, the US system is extremely expensive, ineffective and unfair. The US is the only Western country without universal health care. I would not feel at ease with a family of three kids if I had to wonder how we were going to cover the medical costs if my son had influenza or my daughter broke her arm. Maybe a new wind is blowing in America these days and the country will manage to overcome whatever it is that has kept it from installing such a basic form of social welfare.