Happy

 

If there is a single word I would use to describe my first week in Germany, it would be “emotional.” In the days leading up to my departure date, I endeavored to find an excuse not to go. It just did not seem proper to head off on such a grand adventure when my heart was so heavy. All I wanted was to jump in my car, drive back through the mountains to home, and hug my mom again. Yet I knew deep down that if I did not pack that suitcase, if I stayed back to wallow in my sorrow, that I would come to regret it. Somehow I managed it. Even though I begged my husband to just turn the car around, he stood strong and got me to the airport. My brave little dears held on tight for an extra-long hug, then stoically said their goodbyes. A short trip through security, a final farewell text, and I was off.

 

Once I arrived in Germany, the first several days were a whirlwind of new experiences. Yet they were also an exercise in patience, as being solo in a foreign land leaves one with a profound sense of isolation. My host family picked me up from the airport and took me for ride through the outskirts of the city in their little grey car. Over the next week, I noticed that most of the cars are little and some variation of grey, black, or blue, which makes finding the right one in a parking lot a daunting challenge. Within a few hours I realized my German was considerably worse than I expected, and my host mother felt the same about her English. So communicating seemed like it may be an issue as well, only adding to my feeling of seclusion. The most unanticipated dilemma that confronted me, however, was a lack of technology.

 

Usually, I rely heavily on a plethora of devices. On a daily basis I use my cell phone, Kindle, Surface, and Windows tablet to connect to the world. Naturally, my first inclination was to immediately purchase a German phone so I could reconnect after feeling abandoned all morning at Heathrow. Much to my shock and dismay, 2 o’clock on a Saturday afternoon was apparently not the prime time to do some shopping in Germany. This was my first, and probably most painful culture shock, since it meant I had to go days without being able to feel some normalcy.

 

Exasperated, I logged into the sole computer at my host family’s home. I managed to navigate the German interwebs enough to get to Facebook. Unfortunately, actually logging in was much more of a puzzler thanks to the German keyboard. The @ symbol here is a subscript on the Q key, and for the life of me I could not figure out the enigmatic solution for typing it! After about 40 minutes of frantically attempting every possible key combination, I managed to express my problem to my host mother, who demonstrated the correct sequence in a matter of seconds. Feeling an absurd amount of relief at seeing the updated News Feed on the screen before me, I got to chat with my husband and let him know I was safe and sound. It wasn’t long before I realized it was more than the @ key that was messed up, and for the rest of the week I have been struggling with the Z and Y keys, which are reversed. My host mom tried to assuage my frustration by informing me that at some point this week, the postman was going to bring a mysterious package that would make the computer faster.

 

My technological withdrawal was only the first of my cultural revelations from this first week. Coming from rural roots, sometimes I am not sure if they are international cultural differences or if they simply stem from being in a very urban setting. What was most shocking to me as I traveled to and from school this week is the tremendous amount of independence of the children here. Rather than school buses, they just hop on the metro bus to travel from point A to B. After a full week, I still do not think I will get accustomed to kids as young as my own little ones climbing on the bus and navigating their stops on their own. The mommy in me wants to sit next them, pop off when they do, and make sure they get home safely. Yet no one else seems to bat an eyelash at this.

 

There is also lots of smoking around the bus stops. Waiting for a ride in the morning usually means walking through a cloud of second hand smoke at least once on the platform. This has been either frowned upon, or outright banned for so long in the U.S., that seeing it happen still surprises me. Even though I knew beer drinking was a fact of life here, it still caught me off guard the first time I saw someone drinking on the sidewalk. With no open container laws, you can get a beer bottle from the corner store, crack it open, and go for a stroll. Everyone also seems very thin and healthy, which is surprising considering the amount of smoking and drinking I’ve witnessed! This is also true with the very interesting German diet.

 

With my host family, we usually have three meals a day. Breakfast consists of some sort of buttered bread, homemade marmalade, and possibly cheese and/or sliced deli meat, homemade yogurt, and tomatoes. Lunch is served hot and has been meat with some sort of vegetables. Dinner is some sort of buttered bread, homemade marmalade, and possibly cheese and/or sliced deli meat, homemade yogurt, and tomatoes. After the first couple days of this trend, I realized it was not just that they were finishing up dinner plates for breakfast. They just simply have the exact same meal twice a day, every day! They are great people, and I enjoy sitting down and talking over dinner. Yet bread and butter twice a day, every day has gotten old very, very quickly.

 

After meals we sit at the table and talk while watching the goings on in the garden. Each time a bird perches on an ornament or an animal creeps onto the lawn, my host mother calls it out so we can look. I’ve come to learn that German squirrels are fluffy and red, but are being slowly kicked out of their niche by the brown squirrels for England. It is definitely not what my family watches after dinner. Really makes me miss some Star Trek!

 

I am drinking way less pop though, since she keeps me stocked up on grape juice and water. No Cheerwine or RC for me. I sampled the water for the first time in the middle of the night when I woke up thirsty. I was so taken aback I flipped on the light and checked the glass to make sure it was ok. Here in Germany, my host mother buys Bismarck sparkling mineral water. It is oh so nasty! She looks at me like I’m not quite right in the head for drinking tap water constantly.

 

With all of the cultural differences, schedule adjustments, and trying to get reconnected to the internet, I stayed immensely busy. In the quiet though, there is also lots of time to reflect. Sunday during our welcome dinner, I could not help but my let my mind wander. Only 1 week before, under a grey WV sky, I stood in the cemetery next to a flower strewn mound of dirt where my father had just been laid to rest. Now, under another grey sky, I was walking through a strange city to meet a group of strangers, not really knowing what was in store. Here, so far away from home and everything familiar, seven days feels like a lifetime. In the moments of stillness though, the distance vanishes and I mourn for the man that will be missing when I go home.

 

It is a curious sensation to feel so invigorated and alive due to all the possibilities this adventure may bring, yet also have a lurking shadow of sorrow threatening to overtake me. This was most obvious this evening as we went to watch a local soccer match. It was an important night for H.S.V., the local team, who has had a terrible season. If they lost, they would be kicked from the league, so for the fans, this game was sort of a big deal. For me it was a chance to get into the city, have a beer, and enjoy some fresh air and the company of people that are fast becoming friends.  I really did not know what to expect, since stories are shared about the intensity of European soccer matches and the riotous nature of the fans. Yet what surprised me most was how familiar it all seemed.