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I realised today that I am fast approaching my third year of life in Ulm. Nuts! I can hardly believe it. It doesn't seem like that long but if I think about it lots has happened in that time. I wonder how I can still feel so foreign after three years here. Because I am, I guess. I still get asked if I am Indian everywhere I go. That's OK, I don't mind. I do feel that I am sort of a let down in both respects. I don't really know anything about India for those Bollywood fans and I am not really fair dinkum Australian. Know what I mean? People I know, those I consider friends here, still ask me when my friends from India are coming to visit me. You mean Australia? Yes, Sydney, Australia. That is where I am from. That is what I know. I have only been to India for about six weeks in my entire existence. It seems hard for people to get over the exterior. How can I explain it? It's like cutting into a watermelon to realise that the interior is of an orange. An orange that looks like a watermelon. That's me. A Malaysian born, Australian grown, Indian looking mish mash. This can have it's upside, I guess. I get lots of 'My! Look at your big eyes' style compliments. When I think back about growing up in Australia, I guess it wasn't really much different. Lots of people would try to guess if I was from Sri Lanka, Pakistan, Fiji, India, Africa - where else do those black people live? I seem to recall that in school, and hanging out with friends I often used to forget I was different. There were times it would puzzle me when someone asked me where I was from, I would forget. Forget, that I looked different enough to prompt such a question. What do you mean where am I from? Here, like everyone else. But no, realistically, I didn't belong to that category of foreigner either. I wasn't born in Australia. But this is about Ulm. So, what have I learnt in my three years here in Ulm? What experiences have I to share?

I can start with some things I love about being here.
One of them is the distinctive change of seasons.
Flowers in Spring, red leaves in Autumn.
The proximity of where we live to Italy.
The proximity of where we live to London thanks to budget airlines.
Berlin.
The uninhibited curiousity and friendliness of small town folk - I love all the 'Guten Morgens' when I go for a walk.
I love that schnitzel is 'normal food' as opposed to 'junk food' here.
These people are serious about recycling and caring for the environment.
The bread.
No shopping on Sundays means Husband and I have a whole day to sit around staring at each other.
I can now speak a pretty good, broken version of the language.
The infamous German directness - straight faced, cuts like a knife,
nothing if not well meant.

Which brings me to the real point of this post. A friend, my German BFF (best friend forever), whom I went to visit the other day. We sat like usual, talked shop, drank espresso, ate sweets. Then he asks me to consider the possibility that people here may think I am a mail order bride. Hmmm... OK, so it wasn't as out of the blue as I have made it sound, it was in the context of what we were discussing but nevertheless, it had me wide eyed and speechless. His words were,'You know how Germans think.' They see Husband, they see you. You still look like a student. There is a clear age difference. They wonder, apparently 'How much did he pay for her?' Really? Is that what they wonder? I thought he was joking with me. My German BFF has a wicked sense of humour. But no. It seems in my third year here I have been promoted from standard foreigner, to Mail Order Bride foreigner. An unexpected title. German BFF has now been downgraded to Frenemy status (unbeknownst to him), subject to review if/when I get over this. I am already thinking of t-shirt designs. It's not nice to make people wonder. I may as well wear my status on my sleeve. What about 'He won me on E-bay' or 'I was purchased on mailorderbride.com (free delivery)'. All ideas welcome.