Berlin FAQ Blog

There was dire news the other day that Berlin's blood reserves were dwindling somewhat due to global warming, vampires or whatever, and as I quite frequently wander past the German Red Cross's Blutspendebus parked outside the Schönhauser Allee Arcaden, I thought I'd pop in and take advantage of their offer of a free cup of tea and a piece of cake, in exchange for a little interior liquid I seem to have copious amounts of. And it might provide some nice anecdotal material for my memoirs.

So in I went, presenting myself and my primary identification document to the driver-cum-receptionist, who looked at it very suspisciously and said, remarkably perceptively I find, "Sie sind Brite, oder?". There was no denying that particular fact, surrounded as I was by a cloud of the infamous London fog. "You'd better see the doctor first before we bother filling out the form".

The doctor, who had obviously had the benefit of extensive medical training, confirmed the diagnosis. "Ah, Sie sind Brite". Following extensive interrogation as to how long I had lived in Germany, he revealed that the condition was a serious one, and the outlook was not good even if I was to zip off and become a Bundesbürger, because it turns out anyone who has spent more than 6 months on England's green and pleasant shores [*] since 1986 is precluded from giving blood in Germany, due to "ze mad cowz".

Now, I will admit to having spent much of the period between 1986 and and 1991 or so under the Thatcherist regime, during which time I actively participated in the consumption of bovine products, and around full moon I do moo a little and have visions of fleeing crockery and cutlery, but I am sure my blood is no more tainted than that of any German who popped over for say a three-month language course in 1988. However, it looks like I will have to keep it for myself for a while yet.

[*] I use the word "England" in its German sense, to include Wales, Scotland and Northern Ireland, whose shores are undoubtedly also green and pleasant.