My German Blood

Adventures to Germany, convincing people that I am German.

I sat on the train, embarrassingly clenching my jaw in silence as I stared at the guy checking my ticket. He rapidly spoke to me in German, and I didn't even know where to begin. I did the usual nod and smile, but apparently that was not appropriate for the situation. After a good 30 seconds of awkward, I said "sorry" and tilted my head down. I can't speak German, and I didn't even know how to tell him, other than in English.

After a lovely train ride, aside from my ignorance in the German language, I stepped off the train and began looking around for my family whom I had never met. Luckily for me, they were smiling and waving, holding a sign that said 'Welcome Katherine'. I smiled and went to them. I proceeded to say hello, and then again, had very few words left to speak. The little boys had learned the phrase 'My name is...'. That was really nice, but I unfortunately couldn't return the sentence in German. I'll know German for next time.

It was really unique getting to spend time with people when we had to work to communicate. I learned some German words and phrases with my Grandma's cousins' grandchildren. They were distant family, but family, nonetheless. The time I got to spend with them was certainly a highlight. There were three little girls, ages 6, 10, and 11. It took a little time for them to understand who I was and for them to warm up to me. After we made it past the first 30 minutes or so, and I had made enough jokes about myself and my inability to count to 10 in German, I was in. They quickly invited me to play games. I even got invited to one of the girl's English classes. I don't mean to toot my own horn, but I think she was fascinated by me. Also, once I told her we were in the same family (mind you, this conversation is with someone who has only learned English for a year or so), they were willing to scoot closer to me and to laugh and play a little more openly. It was pretty cute.

We exchanged email addresses and are now pen pals in the most basic level of English. I'm all about that networking. I now have connections all over the world (with a 10 year old...).

All in all, the weekend was a great time. I ate German food. I was treated to afternoon cake and coffee time. I was entertained with afternoon 'programming,' which consisted of castles, churches, and family gatherings. I got to listen to some interesting perspectives on America. 

The Home

My secret bedroom

Office desk at the castle

Cake and Coffee. Erika and Erwin

Family introductions

According to the Movies

Do you know how accurate movies are? They are kind of like the internet; everything you learn on the internet is true. You know? Well, everything you see in movies is also true. Apparently.

According to my experience in this place I am living called Europe, Americans are "Friends," "Friday Night Lights," "Remember the Titans"...etc.

I love asking people what they think of Americans. I love it when Americans become one type of person, when I thought we are supposed to be one big old melting pot. I love it even more though, when assumptions are true.

To begin with, a few days ago, someone came into my office to ask me for chewing gum. I did not have any to give to her, so when she turned to leave, she laughed and said, "I just placed an American stereotype on you." She thought that because I was American I would have gum. I don't know what movie or tv show that came from, but I defied the stereotype for us. No worries. If I wasn't buying only the bare minimum at the grocery store though, I have to admit that I would probably have had the gum.

Then, yesterday I went to a meeting and during the lunch break I ate with an intern from Berlin and another from Argentina who has been living in Italy. It was a great lunch, and we had some good conversations. Of course I had to ask what they thought Americans were like when they started asking me if I did certain things or asked how I was adapting to the European life. They mentioned sororities, and I confessed association with a sorority of my own. They mentioned school lunch rooms in high school and middle school. They laughed at the thought of grouping together by 'clique.' I had to tell them that was a reality.

Then we laughed about the Italians and their concept of time. They don't do time. The Italian said that when things go right and on time, it's a bonus, but no one assumes things will go as planned. Everything will just happen whenever it happens. She also confirmed the crazy Italian driving stereotype, for her own town at least. She told us to NEVER RENT A CAR in her city; she said we wouldn't make it.

I've been asked if I was a cheerleader because of movies and probably my blonde hair. I know it may surprise you, but I am not a cheerleader, never was, and most likely never will be.

I fit the American mold, and despite my attempts to speak French and be one with this culture, I don't pass as European.

On another note, I get to travel to Germany this weekend to visit some distant family. I have never met them before, and I am very excited to take trains and buses and adventure my way into a new country. I am German, so maybe I can pass as German for a while. I just won't speak. That would give it away.

Now, here is a lovely picture.

On a Brighter Note: Dreaming of Italy

For Fall Break, we went to Italy.

I think I need to reference Maria and just list a few of my favorite things.

1. Friendly Italian families who make delicious meals. Giorgio and Susanna-shout out to you.
2. Running through the vineyards to catch the sunrise.
3. Painting the sunsets and getting so excited to capture the moments. The colors in the sky changed with every glance up from my paper.
4. Gelato. That's self explanatory.
5. Sailboats
6. Chasing dolphins on sailboats
7. Secret gardens hidden behind giant monastery doors
8. Markets

Fall break was a whirlwind of adventure, and I don't feel like it was real. I have convinced myself that was a once in a lifetime trip, but I would love to go back. Chianti, Italy was a dream, and I don't know that I can put its magnificence into words.

The hills glowed.  The sun beamed down across the valleys, and the vineyards rolled along. We drank wine from the land. According to our host, only 15 people lived in their town of Noce, and those very few houses scattered across the hills to accommodate, meant silence. What a beautiful sound.

The food was light years beyond my spaghetti and meat sauce. The olive oil, better than Canola.

Italians have a different sense of time, and I truly enjoyed it this week while in no rush to be anywhere. Each person we passed on the street looked up and smiled, passing along a 'Ciao' or 'Bonjourno.' I learned quickly, smiled, and said the same.

The Italy I experienced in Chianti this week seemed genuine and kind. Our host would look us in the eye, smile, and say 'Bella.' We were included in meals with Italian families, meeting sisters, mothers, boyfriends, daughters. We just became a part of the family!

It was a good week.

Cooking with Susanna and family

Italian living

The rolling hills of Tuscany

Another painting the sunsets pic

Vineyards

Sailing on the Ligurean Sea

Photo Credit: Hannah

The Tough Stuff

We flew into Krakow, Poland for a class trip. The blustery weathers hit us as we stepped off of the plane and were quickly gathered together by our Polish tour guide. She was not messing around. She asked us to march and told us she would come and 'collect' us for our first tour. Thus began our adventures in Polandia. I'm going to skip mentioning the tours she gave us and begin with the tough stuff.

We went to Poland to learn about the Holocaust, and that included visits to Auschwitz and Birkenau. The stories of the Holocaust have always been terrorizing and tragic, but they were also always just pictures and stories.

Standing in a crematorium, cringing as the walls and ceilings seemed to close in around me, made it real. I saw ovens. I saw a display with two tons of human hair, ponytails and braids. I braided so many heads of hair this summer, and here lay children hair, old people hair, human hair. I stood in front of the children's clothes with my jaw locked and my face in a permanent scowl. I didn't cry. I almost wanted to, but I couldn't. Auschwitz disgusted me. I couldn't understand it.

Children's drawings

Another thing that hit me hard were pictures of the people from before they entered the camps. Again, I have always seen pictures of these people with striped pajamas, shaved heads, and just skin and bones. I think the point of these camps was dehumanization, and that's the image that is portrayed to us still. These pictures brought the people to life. They were young and beautiful. They had families. They were laughing. They were in love.

I saw the book of names. There were 4 million names of people who died in the Holocaust listed, 2 million unnamed. I found a list of Bodas.

I'm glad I went to these places, but it was awful. Truly truly awful.