Germany

August 9th, 2009

I'm on the train to Kleve, Germany. It's a beautiful sunny day, and we are going past the countryside, passing villages, forests with thin, unusual trees and dark tunnels. When we first got off the plane, it was a challenge to find the right train we needed to take. Instantaneously, as we were standing there confused in the trains station, a German woman with dark cropped hair and a black tattoo that curled around her right bicep walked up to us. She was wearing a white sundress, and I was so excited to be in Europe after I realized that there are some very helpful, warm people here. The lady led us up to the right part of the station, pointed us in the right direction, and warned us about the perils of dirty surfaces in German train stations that can lead to swine flu! It was pretty funny. We nodded our heads as she told us-in English- to have a great trip. Then she was gone.

My impressions of Germany:
-The German customs officers looked so stereotypically, well... German. The didn't smile once, they were quick and too that point. It wasn't neccessarily a bad thing- they simply send you on your way and get down to business. I think most Germans are hard workers, at least they come off that way.
-All the sandwiches, bread, pastries, pretzels in the train station looked soooo good! They make all the sandwiches with tomato, cheese, meat, on fresh baguettes ahead of time and place them temptingly in the windows. How can you NOT walk by and salivate?! They must bank on selling lots of sandwiches throughout the day- that's faith right there.
-Germany is a very clean place- you don't see much trash on the ground, and people look very clean-cut. Usually simply dressed but slightly dressed up, like most people do in Europe.
-It's so quiet here! On the train, we were supposed to whisper or else we would get wierd stares. It was so peaceful in contrast to the screaming, crying babies on the neverending plane ride to Frankfurt from Dallas. I just basked in the silence, it was music to my ears :)
-On the train ride, Tess pulled out a photo from her childhood. In the picture, she looked about 7 years old, and it was taken in Germany when she lived there for a couple years with her parents (her dad is from Germany). In the photo, Tess was standing next to a window, where below the street was covered in snow and flakes were floating down. She had bangs and a short cropped haircut, and here eyes were big and bright. Tess tucked the photo back into her book, but as she did I couldn't help but catch a glimpse of her eyes- they are the same as in the picture: big, open, peaceful. I think it has something to do with the fact that we are in Germany. "This feels like home to me, even more than Portland", said Tess as she looked out the window. It got me thinking about belonging, about identity. Tess has two places that she calls home. Two cultures that she holds inside of her, that are very different and sometimes possibly conflicting. As for me, I can really only call Portland home. I love the dark shadows and drizzling rainstorms that grace my city every winter and Spring. And I love the green lawns and bright gold and red leaves that color my city. I love the smell of fresh mud and of my mom making waffles when it sifts through the vent from the kitchen into my bedroom. I love the creaks of my old house, and every little crease of the faces I know and love back home. It feels so warm and comfortable to belong somewhere, but the feeling of discovery and understanding and new cultures is also a good feeling. It may not be as comfortable, but it is just as identity shaping- how can anyone ever crow in the middle of constant familiarity... what is there to learn?