Getting Down... Down... Down to Business

If I were to be completely honest, I would have to say that the biggest reason I applied for this program was that it was the only chance I had to come back to Germany this summer.  It was also an industry internship, in contrast to the academic/research internship I did last summer and didn't really like.  Other than that I didn't really care; my goal was to come back to Germany and intern in a German company.  The fact that the first month of the program boasted a language course, various company visits, and "opportunities for discussion with top professionals" really didn't impress me as they probably intended.  If it had been only an internship with no "cultural exposure" I would have still jumped at the opportunity; had the program contained everything but the internship, I would not have thought it worth my while.  That also explains why I was so much less concerned about not flying in until the fifth day of the program, and so eager to extend my internship when given the opportunity.  Not that the things we've gotten to do haven't been fun, at least at times, but it's not really what I'm here for.  Everything is in English because more than half of the participants have zero previous German experience and sometimes I feel like I'm in an American bubble, which is the last thing I want while I'm over here.  I feel a little bit bad about being so antisocial and splitting off from the group every chance I get, in order to hang out with more Germans or just be on my own, but if I wanted to be American in another culture I would have picked a new place to go instead of returning to the place where I feel so inexplicably at home, even though my ties to this country are tenuous at best.

I don't know what I was expecting from the German class, perhaps something like last year in Munich (and I was not particularly looking forward to having a workload like that again), but it wasn't like that at all.  I have to give credit to my teacher, one of the administrators in the International Center.  The four of us in the "intermediate" class are on vastly different levels with our German (I was just happy to find that I wasn't the ONLY one with prior German experience, as I feared).  One of the guys is practically fluent, having been a foreign exchange student in another town in North Germany during high school (he claims he didn't know ANY German before he went, and I'm still trying to figure out how he did that, but no matter).  His grammar leaves a bit to be desired, having never been formally instructed, but he can get around in German better than any of us (his vocabulary must be at least twice mine).  I'm a distinct second, able to carry on easy conversations on a moderate range of topics and rather academic in my grammar and pronunciation (when I think about it).  At least, I definitely don't have an American accent - people always seem surprised to hear that I am American and quite a few have remarked, "Oh, I would have thought you were from the Netherlands by your accent!"  Having heard Dutch now after visiting the Netherlands for a weekend (more about that to come), which sounds like some crazy mix of drunk German and English, I presume that means I speak better than most Americans but still have a distinctly English background to my pronunciation.  I chalk this up to the several weeks during my semester of German 101 when I would go to the professor's office hours just to practice the more difficult vowels (umlauts - ä,ö, and ü - are particularly challenging).  The other two sound like they've had between 1 and 2 semesters of German, although the boy took summer classes (in English) at TU Dortmund last year, so I'm surprised he's not better at German.  They both have reasonable listening comprehension and will understand as long as the person speaks slowly and uses words they know, but when they speak it still sounds clunky and awkward.  This makes it very difficult for our teacher to do something that will be both helpful and engaging for all of us, but she tries hard.  However, without a grade for the class hanging over our heads, the amount by which we stretch ourselves is largely up to us.  I've chosen to try improving by concentrating on my grammar and conversational fluidity, as well as expanding my vocabulary.  Whenever I'm speaking in class and unsure about a construction or grammatical feature, I ask so that in real conversations I can use it correctly.

After class I took advantage of the fast internet to start cleaning up my cluttered and overstuffed inbox, as I do about every 6 months.  This absorbed me so completely that it was the only thing I accomplished with my free time that day, but I didn't mind terribly.  I've managed to keep my inbox to 15 emails or less since then, which really helps avoid forgetting about important emails I should reply to, which happened all too often during the school year.  In the afternoon we had a lecture on "Germany's position within the European Union" which was fairly interesting, as I am remarkably ignorant when it comes to domestic political matters, forget international!  The presenter's heavy accent made her difficult to understand at times, but the way she contrasted how Germany sees itself and the rest of the EU vs. the various ways the rest of the EU sees Germany was enlightening.  Basically, when the EU started Germany was eager to get back in everybody's good graces (for obvious reasons) and so was quite willing to pay for everything.  That isn't the case anymore, which has led other countries which aren't such economic powerhouses (seriously, Germany went from totally destroyed to thriving with basically ALL of its massive debts paid off in only 60 years!  Can you see why I'd rather be here than America?) - i.e. Greece and Portugal - to accuse it of becoming too powerful, or being too wimpy to help out the other EU member-states.  So there's quite a bit of tension in the EU surrounding the financial woes and the future direction of the Union, as it has a serious leadership vacuum at the moment.

After that I returned to organizing my emails until the next event, called "Second Monday."  Each month a different department at the university is tasked with organizing this party which seems like it is mostly targeted towards internationals, though there were quite a few Germans there too.  I was just happy about the free food, which consisted (predictably) of Wurst and various salads (potato, cabbage, macaroni, etc.) with watermelon for dessert (after all, the theme was "Welcome in the Summer!")  After the food we played several games, including "Name that Summer-Hit" (mostly American Top 40s from the 90s - I recognized most of them but couldn't name the band or the year they were released), "Mystery Fruit" (I got to do this one, where one person from each group was blindfolded and fed several fruits, then had to guess what they were), "Coconut Race" (first to open a coconut with a chosen weapon wins - we had a hammer and someone in our group knew exactly how to open them, so we won easily), and a "Bucket Brigade Race" where we had three minutes to fill a bucket as quickly as possible by making a line across the pavement between the full bucket and empty one and passing the water along the line from paper cup to paper cup.  Somehow, despite doing quite well in each of the individual competitions (as far as we could tell), we ended up in last place, but I got free food and some free beer (the local Krombacher was too strong and bitter for me, but then I swapped it out for a Schöfferhoffer cactus-flavored one which was much more delicious) so I didn't really mind.  It was pretty late by the time we cleared out of the party, but the rest of the group wanted to go to a jazz club and I like jazz, so I tagged along.  The club had free entry, at least, but the performers turned out to be three old guys on electric guitars and some bongo drums playing what sounded like very loud elevator music, not the swing-jazz I was expecting, so I only stayed about 45 minutes before heading back.  By the time I finished by German homework assignment for the next day's class, it was 11pm and I was more than ready for bed.

By Tuesday I was desperately in need of an actual shopping trip, so I got up a tad early (for normal people, 7am isn't anything out of the ordinary for me) and hit up Aldi before class.  Gotta love Germany - I bought eggs, yoghurt, milk, orange juice, bread, peanut butter and nutella, butter, and cheese and didn't run over 15 Euros (although, after grocery shopping for myself all year, I realize that German food isn't as much cheaper than American food as I thought).  I also checked out the other grocery store in my neighborhood, Edeka, which is reportedly slightly more expensive but has a much better selection, including an exclusive "American brands" display that was slightly embarrassing, to say the least - a giant gaudy Statue of Liberty floated above a collection of Hershey bars, peanut butter, marshmallows, "maple-flavored" (corn) syrup, and beef jerky (this is the face we show the world?).  After this I still had time to get to the university a bit early, which is why I couldn't explain why my classmates were late for the 10:15 German class (though Tim - the most fluent one - made up a very clever tale in German about how I had locked them all in the CDC and they had to call the police and the fire department to get them out so they could come to class).  In fact, Tim has quite the talent for improv - later on in the class as we were sharing the stories we had written using the verbs we were supposed to be learning, Tim shared the poem he had made up instead and managed to spin his retelling of my story to make me look like a horribly vicious person (it was about a fish in a restaurant that was still alive and bit me and he told it from the fish's point of view, as a fight for survival :P) while, when I tried to point out that another girl's story similarly ended with the consumption of an animal, he spun hers exactly the opposite way.  I was more amused and impressed at his language skills than miffed at being the butt of his jokes for the day (having learned well in the past couple of years how to laugh at myself).

Our class let out a few minutes early on this day so that we could get to our excursion, which was to the Augusta Victoria Coal mine, one of the few remaining active coal mines in the area which once depended so heavily on the "black gold."  The people we were met by ushered us into a conference room for drinks and snacks, this time artfully arranged slices of meats and cheese on bread topped with various garnishes (quite fancy, really).  Unfortunately, none of them knew enough English to make themselves understood, and it was left to our intrepid leader, Laura, to translate.  She is originally American but has lived and worked in Germany for many years and is the current director of the international center, but even though she is fluent in both languages she struggled to provide real-time translation of the various technical terms.  Tim and I jumped in to help when we could, but the presentation still took longer than any of the coal mine executives expected and by the time we were bustled down to the changing rooms (yes, we were actually going down INSIDE the mine!) we were evidently quite far behind schedule.  The mine workers were quite careful to explain to us that we couldn't leave ANY of our street clothing on because the polyester and other synthetic fabrics with which especially undergarments tend to be made could potentially collect static electricity, which in the worst case could set off an explosion if there was too much methane in the air down in the mine (of course, this was a minuscule possibility, but they had to take as many safety precautions as possible for insurance reasons).  That was... interesting, to say the least.  Let's just say that I don't think any women work underground at the mine, because though they had previously gotten our measurements to try and find clothing that would fit us, there was only one style of undergarment.  I had never worn men's underwear before, and I think I'll be okay if I never do again.  Fortunately there was enough clothing for the upper body given to disguise the fact that the undershirt wasn't exactly designed for... erm... support, shall we say.  Soon enough we were all ready with our shirts, jackets, belted pants (my belt went around almost twice, and I'm one of the larger girls in the group), socks, steel-toed boots, shin guards, scarves and helmets.  Before we went below we each received a headlamp and a CO filter in case the gas should emerge in deadly quantities (the mine executive who would lead our tour assured us that in many decades of working at the mine, he had never had to use his, it was simply another safety precaution) which altogether weighed about 5 pounds.  Finally we gathered for a quick picture aboveground before trooping off to the elevator which would take us 1,113 meters underground to the active coal seam.

The ride down took less than a minute, but we could feel our ears popping as the pressure steadily increased.  At the bottom of the shaft, we emerged into a surprisingly large tunnel which was a few degrees warmer than the air at the surface but not uncomfortable (we were told that this was only because of the air conditioning system, otherwise it would be too hot to work at this depth).  We traipsed along the tunnel for awhile, through two airlocks (which are there to keep the fresh air pumping through the mines, otherwise it stagnates and the oxygen slowly depletes until it is unbreathable) to where a small train sat waiting for us.  Each car was rated to hold 10 people, but we were tightly packed with 6, and I'm sure that 90% of the mine workers are larger than female university students.  The train rattled along for a few minutes, then came crashing to a halt with a jerk that made us all glad for our helmets.  We asked, "Is this normal?" looking at our guide and he said, with a completely undisturbed face, "No."  Before we could panic too much, the train jerked to life again and continued moving along the tunnel which was only occasionally illuminated beyond the confines of the enclosed train car. Finally, after a ride of about 8 minutes, we clambered out of the train and assembled as a group.  Though we were all given safety goggles (and those of us with contacts had special tight-fitting ones), earplugs, masks and gloves, none of the workers we saw were using any of these precautions.  Guess they're not too worried about black lung disease?

At the working seam, where we were let out, it was much noisier, warmer, and more stifling than it had been near the lift.  Our tour guides had to shout to be heard, and considering they were all still speaking German and our translators were only hearing about half of what was said, I was glad I understood both languages.  Without much introduction we headed off down a side tunnel, alongside the conveyor belt which was transporting the coal from the seam to the main tunnel where it was loaded into cars to be shuttled to the surface.  The tunnel stretched on and on and got progressively smaller and more crowded, with muddy floors and piles of rocks and coal to clamber over.  After about 30 minutes of this we made a sharp turn into the actual coal seam, an artificial tunnel created by dozens of hydraulics which literally support the thousands of tons of rock and earth above as the coal is mined out.  Fortunately for us this seam was about 2.5 meters high, which meant that we could stand up in the artificial tunnel.  Sometimes they mine from seams as small as 18", and then the workers have to crawl along their bellies to access the machinery.  As the coal is scraped and ground from the surrounding rock by the big cutting heads, water is sprayed on it to keep the dust down - even then, we were all getting covered and could barely see.  The front head shaves the top of the seam while the back head finishes off the bottom and moves the dislodged coal to the conveyor belt which shuttles it towards the mine entrance.  As the mining head moves forward, the hydraulics behind it move forward in shifts - dislodging, shifting ahead, then raising again to hold the earth in place.  As they hydraulics move forward, the tunnel behind them is simply allowed to collapse in on itself.  (I have heard that the entire expansive area on top of this particular mine has sunk an astounding 90 centimeters as a result of this settling from the seams at different levels.)  Standing on the hydraulics as they moved forward was an unsettling experience, to say the least.

While what we were seeing was extremely interesting, it was rather repetitive and so after a short while we were ready to retrace our steps.  I kept my eyes out and soon I saw a chunk of coal laying aside which I snatched and was allowed to keep as a souvenir of our trip (better than any gift shop!)  We hadn't gotten far, however, when the message was passed along the line to "hold up!" - one of the members of the group, the (somewhat frail-looking) sister of one of the students in the program who just happened to be visiting on this day and was allowed to come along, had collapsed from all the excitement.  She wasn't injured, just in a little bit of shock from dehydration combined with the heat, dust, and noise of the coal seam.  So we called back to the lift to report our situation and carefully worked our way back along the tunnel the way we had come.  About halfway out we were met by a messenger who had brought us in water and cups, and urged us all to drink for fear of one of the other girls (all seven of us are fairly petite) also collapsing.  We were all fine, however, and eventually reached the trains all in one piece.  The trip back to the surface was uneventful, but we were all quite impressed by everything we had seen.  It wasn't until we got back aboveground that we realized what we looked like. To various degrees, our faces and hair were streaked with black coal dust.  We dutifully stripped off helmets, utility belts, boots, jackets, and scarves - but not before snapping a group picture.

The little miners, after our ascent back to the surface, bearing the marks of our adventure

We all expected that our next stop would be a shower, but instead we were herded into a small room with a table set with various meat kebabs (including chicken nugget-kebabs), mini hamburger patties, and large baskets of bread.  Our guides informed us that to get the true mining experience, we would have to eat like miners - without washing up first.  A few of us complained at first, but soon our hunger displaced our squeamishness and we were all digging in with healthy appetites.  After supper we were allowed back to our changing rooms to try and rinse off the coal dust that covered all of our exposed areas.  This was all well and good except for the thought that I couldn't escape that the "guest" changing rooms were very obviously borrowed from workers who were not currently on shift, as the labeled clothing on the wall and used razor on the sink made clear.  We were not provided with our own soap or other shower supplies, so I contented myself with rinsing my hair and lathering up on my hands to scrub my face and arms.  We were also given special cream to help us get the dust from around our eyes and told that it quite conveniently made for an excellent makeup remover and we could all keep our tubes.  I can tell you, they were right about the makeup remover :)

Soon we reassembled, fresh-faced, and piled back on the bus for the return journey after duly thanking our guides and the proper executives.  All during the ride to the mine and while we were taking the tour, everyone kept emphasizing just how unusual and unique an opportunity this was.  As for myself, I was shocked that they would bring us - a group of university students completely unfamiliar with coal mining - right into the heart of the operation like this.  We literally saw coal cut from the rock right before our eyes!  Not that I didn't enjoy it.  It was the most fun and interesting thing we've done during the entire program, in my opinion.

The one other exciting thing that happened that day actually took place after I was asleep.  Keeping to my normal schedule, I tend to go to sleep between 9 and 10 when I can and wake up early to make a big breakfast and get some internet time, either at the CDC before anyone else wakes up to share the bandwidth or by coming to the university early and finding a space in the library until class starts.  Therefore I was already mostly asleep by the time my roommate came in and began moving around and talking.  She said, "Hey Erin, do you want to go to Rome this weekend?"  Thinking I had misheard her in my sleep, I answered with a very confused "What?"  She repeated the question and explained that the other members of the group had found a cheap flight, only 60 Euros round-trip, and were planning to go for the weekend, since we had Friday off.  I had actually been thinking of traveling to the Netherlands - only four hours by train to get to the big cities on the west coast - and was almost flustered enough by the last-minute planning of lodging and attractions (the train tickets were simple enough to buy through Deutsche Bahn and I didn't have to worry about the prices changing) to postpone to a later date, though we didn't have any other three-day weekends in the schedule.  I couldn't imagine trying to work out arrangements for something as far away as Rome, Italy!  I know I said I was trying to be spontaneous, but I have to draw the line somewhere.  Not to mention it didn't sound like the others had things very well worked out and the last thing I wanted to do was stay up all night while they went back and forth trying to make arrangements.  So I told her that if the others found cheap enough lodging I would consider it, and went back to sleep.  When she came in again around midnight, still almost nothing had been decided, and I didn't think the opportunity was worth the stress, all things considered.

(They did end up going, and enjoyed it, although under rather dubious circumstances that involved one of the girls' mothers using reward points to book a hotel room for two though there were four of them, the airports being amazingly hard to get to, and rather large sums of money being borrowed and lent within the group to cover various expenses... I'm glad I did what I did instead, which I will tell you about in a later post!  In fact, I'll end this one here - it's long enough already :])

The First Weekend

And so we come to the weekend.  It was actually quite boring, at least for the first half.  I took advantage of this first real breather to spend a solid chunk of time blogging and continuing the fight against jet lag by taking a 3-hour midafternoon nap.  I had bought some frozen pizza on that first day but hadn't had a chance to eat it yet, and we only have a microfridge in our room, so I crossed my fingers that the pizza hadn't gone bad from the two days in a fridge (I think Germans put far fewer preservatives in their food than we tend to) and had it for breakfast AND supper, since there were two pizzas in the box.  My first real activity of the day was meeting my double, Dani, and her boyfriend at 8pm to go to something called a "public viewing" of one of the Eurocup games.  (In case you don't know, Germans are OBSESSED about soccer.  And they're pretty good at it, so they have a reason to be.  I personally find it one of the more enjoyable spectator sports, and I definitely want to get to know my German friends better, so if bonding happens over watching soccer, so be it :])  They arrived punctually at 8pm and I met them outside.  Of the "fan gear" they had given me, I had chosen one pin and the wristband to wear, fearing that I would appear over-the-top in anything else.  Clearly I had vastly underestimated German soccer fans.  Both Dani and her boyfriend sported Germany jerseys and had German flags painted on their cheeks.  Since the flag is a simple black, red, and gold stripe, it is possible to buy a face makeup crayon which is one third black, one third red, and one third gold and paint German flags on any desired part of the body (in addition to a simple flag on each cheek, on other fans I saw many patterns - crosses, hearts, etc. - attempted with varying degrees of success).  They remarked on my lack of spiritedness and I promised to do better next time.  I could have run back up and gotten more accessories, in hindsight, as it was a full 20 minutes before my other double showed up with some of her friends.  She practically stumbled out of the car, brandishing a (rather large) empty bottle of what looked like some kind of hard liquor.  I overheard one friend ask rather apprehensively, "Wait, you drank all of that?" to which she nodded an enthusiastic yes.  Whatever it was, it couldn't have been terribly strong because she could still walk and talk just fine, she only seemed a little more enthusiastic than I thought was warranted.  We quickly made our way to the nearby square where the public viewing was held, which was already packed with spectators 15 minutes before the game.  I was introduced to all of my doubles' friends, of which there was now quite a crowd, and a couple of them tried to speak English to me although most, after hearing that I could speak German reasonably well, reverted to their native tongue.  I nodded and smiled and tried to repeat names when I heard them clearly enough, but I don't think I would remember any of them if I met the people again.

"Super Deutschland!!"

Soon the game started, and although the more serious fans in the group informed me that it wasn't a very good show, it was plenty exciting enough for me.  I declined Dani's repeated suggestions of getting myself an (overpriced) beer from the conveniently-located kiosk, but the smell of the wagon next to it selling crepes soon got to me and a group of us went over to order some.  I got one with Kinder (brand) chocolate in the middle and it was quite delicious, although I hesitate to say it was worth 3 Euros.  The game ended happily at 1=0 for Germany and Dani dragged me along to a local bar where they were going to celebrate.  Never having been in a bar before, I thought it would be an interesting experience and acquiesced, figuring that this was a very good and very safe opportunity now that I was with reasonable friends and close to home.  I wasn't particularly hungry and had absolutely no idea what to order from the menu for drinks, since this place specialized in cocktails, something I had never tried.  When I told this to Dani she couldn't believe it, but suggested we get the sampler and split it.  I agreed, not fully realizing that the "sampler" would consist of five good-sized drinks for Dani and I to split between ourselves.  Fortunately, cocktails contain relatively small amounts of alcohol and I downed a Sex on the Beach (which I liked, fortunately, as it is a relatively common cocktail), a JiJi Loco (also good, but a local specialty), and half of a Bling Bling (which was far too sour and alcoholic for my tastes) over the course of two to three hours without really feeling affected.  The night ended up costing 14 Euros, a bit expensive for my tastes but well worth the experience.  Dani and her boyfriend walked me home, which I was glad for when we encountered several fans who had celebrated considerably more than I had and I wouldn't have been entirely comfortable circumventing on my own.  It was past one in the morning when I finally returned home and my newfound German friends laughed at my insistence on attending church in the morning, but I was determined.  I made sure to drink a large glass of water before bed, to ward off any danger of dehydration (the leading cause of hangovers), and tucked myself in.

True, when my alarm went off at 8am, it was not an entirely welcome sound, but I dutifully roused myself (no noticeable headache or sour stomach, I am happy to report) and was out the door by 9am.  I wanted to be sure to leave enough time to be early to church and hadn't previously scoped out my subway route.  Fortunately it was a very straightforward and direct route with a train that came every 20 minutes to the station closest to the CDC, and after only a little bit of fumbling at the end station, I arrived at the church (which was much bigger than I had thought, easily located in its own building with a large sign out front) within 30 minutes of walking out my door.  I should tell you a little about how I decided upon this particular church, as it seemed to me to be a special Providence.  I arrived on a Wednesday but there was no question in my mind that I wanted to find someplace to worship and get connected right away, even though I was only to be in the city for a month and a maximum of four Sundays.  I began by typing "Evangelische Freikirche in Dortmund" into Google.

As I explained last year, the religious system here is divided into the Catholic and Protestant churches, which are supported by the state, and the Free Churches or 'Freikirchen' which operate similar to most American congregations, supporting themselves with the tithes of the worshippers.  The Protestant churches are mostly Lutheran (for obvious reasons) and Catholic churches are the same everywhere, so to find a fellowship similar to what I was used to I would have to scour the domain of the 'Freikirchen'.  I had already investigated Calvary Chapels, of which there are about a dozen in Germany, but none of them were within an hour's drive of Dortmund (nor Remscheid, for that matter - they seem to be concentrated in the south-east region and rather close to each other, with the exception of Berlin, so I suspect that one was started in the area of Stuttgart and the others are church plants from the original fellowship).  I'm not particularly picky, but I'm most comfortable in the young, modern churches (non-denominational in America) in which I grew up.  There don't seem to be many of these in Germany; if you remember, I ended up at a Pentecostal church last year and loved it.  And so I searched with an open mind, reasoning that if the church I found for the first week was totally whack, I didn't have to go back.  The first link I found seemed promising, so I copied the address into Google Maps to see how close it was to the CDC.  It showed that the "Christuskirche" was just on the other side of the city center, but that seemed a bit strange because the name of the church given on the website wasn't "Christuskirche."  Leaving that tab open, I repeated my search within Google maps and again, the Christuskirche was the first hit.  It was listed as a Baptist church, and the summer camp where I attended and worked for six consecutive summers was also Baptist by affiliation, so I suspected it wouldn't be too far out of the ordinary for me.  Wanting to try one more time to find other options just in case, I clicked the second link of my Google search, which led me to a traveler's site for Dortmund.  Under "Churches in Dortmund", once again, the Christuskirche topped the list.  It seemed more than chance that I had now found the same church via three different methods (and one of them evidently a mistake), so I went back to Google Maps and carefully retyped the address from the first link.  Predictably, it gave me a different place - but this one was at least twice as far from the CDC.  Well, that was an easy decision!  And so I came to the Christuskirche, and I suspect it was more than coincidence that brought me here.

When I walked into the building on that first Sunday, there was still 30 minutes until the service began.   There weren't many people there yet but I quickly found someone to introduce myself to, which wasn't difficult as many people were in the habit of greeting everyone around as they walked through the door, and there weren't many people around which ensured that they also got to me.  When they came to me I would give them a cheery, "Guten Morgen!" and they would perhaps look puzzled for a moment before saying something to the effect of, "I haven't seen you around here before.  Are you a visitor?" which was my cue to launch into my spiel about who I was and what I was doing in Dortmund (which is probably the subject I can most easily talk about in German :])  I met a few very nice people before the service started, including some student-age women who invited me up to sit with them.  The sanctuary is very pretty, modern-looking with a balcony in addition to the seating on the main floor.  I would estimate that it can hold about 150-200 people comfortably, and it seemed to be about 2/3 full on this particular Sunday morning.  I couldn't help but smile as the opening song turned out to be "Shine, Jesus, Shine" (one of my most favorite praise songs from the 90s) translated into German - I can often tell by the worship style what kind of church I have found, and I seemed to be quite at home here.  My suspicions were confirmed as the service continued with announcements, a baby dedication, and a pleasantly appropriate sermon titled "God is Love."  I know enough German to understand about 80% of the sermon, even though I was struggling to stay awake at times due to my rather short night.  The pastor emphasized that since God is love, we should also take special care to love those around us to demonstrate that we believe that fact.  My favorite of his practical applications was his exhortation to approach people who seem to be alone during the fellowship times before and after the service.  Fortunately for me, his congregation took him seriously.

After the closing benediction, there was the predictable coffee and cake down in the foyer (not as elaborate as in Clausthal, due to the larger fellowship, but still good).  I grabbed a glass of water and a cookie and carefully positioned myself in the middle of the space so that I was approachable from all sides, but not close enough to any particular group of people that those observing would think I was with them.  In short, I tried to make it as obvious as possible that I wanted to be talked to, though I am not bold enough to approach others when in such a new or unfamiliar situation.  My efforts were soon rewarded as an older man with a bristling mustache and a completely bald head strode boldly up to me and began making small talk about the food.  It wasn't long before the predictable question came, "Are you a visitor here?"  to which I could readily answer about being an American student, here to study and intern, etc. etc.  At this news his eyes went wide and he leaned back a little.  "American?  Ich speaky kein English!  Hahaha.  (All the rest was in German, obviously).  But seriously, your German is so good!"  I politely acknowledged his compliment with a soft laugh and we continued talking.  It seemed the more Hartwig (for that was the jovial gentleman's name) learned about me, the more impressed he became.  I was studying Mechanical Engineering (the name Princeton meant nothing to him, frustratingly - or luckily? - enough the university is not widely known outside the US)?  But women didn't do that!  Or was it different in America? (I assured him that it was - thinking of Birgitt and Kat as well as my other several MAE female friends - a bit more common occurrence in the States.)  What - I would be entering my final year of study in the fall?  But I am only 21 years old!  (This one I can explain - Germans have an additional year of high school and usually attend five years of university, so I am two years ahead by that reckoning.)  By this point he was parading me around with one arm thrown around my shoulders, telling everyone what a wonder-child I was.  I was starting to get quite embarrassed when he turned to me and asked a question I was not expecting.  "Do you have any plans for the afternoon?"  I said I guessed not.  "Good!  Then you're coming to lunch with my wife and I.  Don't worry, we've also invited the youth pastor and his wife.  It'll be a great afternoon!"  I was taken aback but have tried to become more open to spontaneity and one-time opportunities than I used to be, particularly when traveling and on this occasion, my other plans really were limited to napping and blogging, so I figured why not.  We were some of the last people to leave the church, but soon Hartwig, his wife Ursula, and I had all piled into their expansive Audi (one of the bigger cars I have seen in Germany, which was my first clue that this couple was quite well-off) and pulled out of the parking lot towards their home, where Josua and Mirjiam, the other guests, would meet us.

The nicest people ever. They remind me of Nana and Gaffer.

Hartwig seemed a bit erratic and aggressive in his driving, but then again, I have found most Germans to be so in my estimation.  In about 20 minutes we were driving through the narrow streets of a small suburb, finally pulling up in front of a cozy two-story house with bright flower bushes surrounding the front door.  Ursula ushered me inside while Hartwig parked the car and bustled over to a wardrobe where she picked out a cardigan for me (I had overestimated the weather that morning and neglected to put one on as I left the CDC).  She then ushered me to the back door, where a small porch with a sturdy wicker table and chairs overlooked a small paradise.  I've seen pretty gardens before, but this one rivaled the best of them with its perfectly manicured, thick-growing grass, snugly-set cobblestones denoting the various paths and flowerbeds, and a neat little concrete pond in the center, filled with lilies and colorful fish with a net covering the top to keep out the predatory birds.  Colorful flowers of every description filled the rich beds, and in the tour we were given later we discovered that this was only the first layer of the garden and it actually extended out about three times farther than it first seemed, all the way back past the apple and cherry trees to the rows of strawberries, raspberries, lettuce, beans, and tomatoes along the back fence.  I gathered from conversation that there was no gardener, only Hartwig and Ursula who loved working in the dirt and tending to the plants.  Evidently they were also retired.

Soon enough the other guests arrived and we sat down to a splendid lunch of cold cuts, baked potatoes and asparagus with a delicious creamy sauce.  They repeatedly asked if I knew what the vegetable was, but since I didn't know the German word I couldn't say.  They were quite surprised that we didn't have this in America until Ursula brought out the serving dish and I happily exclaimed, "Oh, asparagus!!"  They were boiled, I think, because their normal green color was faded to a milky cream, but they were still pretty good (or at least, I was polite enough to eat my share without complaining).  Accompanying the meal we had, at the insistence of Hartwig, a hearty glass of a sweetish white wine (he asked me beforehand if I would prefer white or red, and I tried to politely decline but apparently was being misunderstood, so instead of trying to explain the different drinking culture in America, acquiesced to the white wine.  It was pretty good, though not the best I've ever had).  Afterwards Ursula brought out a fantastic dessert consisting of vanilla and strawberry ice cream topped with a sauce rich with red berries (cherries and currants, I think) and a strawberry and whipped cream on top.  She informed us that the berries came from the garden, and I'm never one to pass up a good ice cream, so I was happy.

We were all pretty full at this point, so we went out on the back porch to talk and for the aforementioned tour of the garden.  I took plenty of pictures, thinking especially of my garden-loving father and boyfriend and how they would love to have a yard landscaped like this.  At midafternoon, just as I thought things were winding down, Ursula again disappeared into the kitchen and this time emerged with the ubiquitous coffee and cake.  I went for some yummy orange rooibus tea instead of the coffee, still hoping for that afternoon nap, and indulged freely in the various cakes and pastries, again made with fruits from the garden.  Conversation went on and on, and I learned quite a bit of Josua and Mirjiam's life story (this was the first time Ursula and Hartwig were really meeting them, as they moved to the church in February of this year) as well as tales of Hartwig's growing up in wartime Poland.  When Mirjiam expressed interest and admiration for the garden, saying she hoped to start one at their new apartment as well, Ursula wasted no time in slipping on some gardening clogs and moving around the beds gathering clippings for her.  Finally at about 5:30 I began looking at my watch and fidgeting in my chair, thinking about the Skype date I had set up with Joe for 7pm and knowing it would take at least 30 minutes to get back to the CDC.  I still had hopes for that nap, but as the watch hands crept slowly towards six I began to despair of seeing my bed before the evening.  Finally Hartwig noticed my agitation, although I was trying hard to be polite and not complain.  Josua and Mirjiam graciously indicated that it was about time for them to be moving out, as well, and generously offered to drive me back, since they were headed into Dortmund anyway.  This was certainly an improvement on trying to figure out my way back via the trains, so I quickly accepted and we said our (lengthy) goodbyes.  I couldn't thank Hartwig and Ursula enough for their hospitality, but I did ask for their address and promised to send them a Christmas card at least.  They gladly gave it to me and insisted that the next time I was in the area, I would have to call on them.  If I ever am, I plan to do so :)

During the ride back with Josua and Mirjiam I repeated my basic information, which they had missed at the beginning, a little bit but mostly held my peace.  It was past 6:30 when I hopped out of the car and gave them a quick hug and a grateful farewell and "hope to see you another Sunday!"  I dashed up to my room and decided to steal the nap anyway, even though the Internet can sometimes be finicky and it can take as long as 20 minutes to get everything set up.  Fortunately this was not the case and 30 minutes later, after a refreshing catnap, I was recounting my adventures to my bemused and willing listener.  My good luck only lasted about an hour, however, before the connection suddenly and unexpectedly broke off.  I got just enough bandwidth to send an explanatory email and then headed off to bed before 9pm, figuring that I had done enough for the day and needed to get ready for my first day of German language course the next morning.  The weekend was a good mix of rest and adventure, and I was definitely ready for more of both.