God Bless Fried Chicken, Peanut Butter, and Punctuality!!

Thanks to Roman (a guy I had met in Berlin), I spent a fabulous last day galavanting about the city I have come to love so much. Seeing as he had a day-long layover in Madrid on his way home from vacationing in Portugal AND had never seen the city before, I was thrilled when he asked me to be his personal tour guide. We met in the Plaza at 12 and made our first stop at Palacio Real and strolled through the gardens of La Plaza Oriente before finally settling down at a cafe for his first (and my last) menu del dia.

Craving siestas in typical Spanish fashion, we rolled ourselves down side streets and alley ways, up Gran Via, passing Plaza de Santo Domingo and Puerta de Alcala until finally parking (pun intended) ourselves in Retiro Park. The intensely direct Madrileño heat shocked the Berliner, making him especially anxious to find a shady escape. I read "A Painted House" while Roman wrote postcards and napped.

Feeling refreshed and ready to brave the streets once again, we decided to venture over to Real Madrid's Santiago Bernabéu Stadium. A new site even for me, and Roman the soccer buff that he is, this was the perfect destination. Not surprisingly, we discovered that the ticket counter advertised 16-euro tours as the sole means of access. Upon further pressing, however, the saleslady offered an alternate view of the field from the nearby Cafe Real, but only as sort of an after thought. Much preferring the later option of the two, we turned the corner, walked up the stairs, and stopped dead to this view:

no bigs

SO much better than any expensive tour, we ordered drinks, flashed a series of shots in disbelief, made friends with the waiters, toasted our good fortune, and soaked in another incredible "this is my life" moments.

Saying goodbye to my home in Boadilla was pretty anticlimactic, but maybe it's better this way. The last thing I said to neighbors, Antonio the gardner, extended Mestre family, and the lifeguard was "hasta luego" (see ya later), although I kind of doubt I'll actually see any of them ever again. I ate a late dinner of pisto (like thick, chunky gazpacho) with Alberto and Solete in front of the TV, while the kiddos played outside with neighborhood friends.

As I tried to pack up my life and more into two suitcases, the kids came down one at a time to say goodbye. I gave one letter to the kids (complete with stickers and bat fliers) and one to Solete and Alberto. Solete and I stood in the basement between the laundry room and my bedroom talking for a long time about the summer, before exchanging Spanish kisses, a hug, and heading up to bed. I may have caught one hour of sleep that night.

No doubt spending this summer in Madrid was the hardest thing I've ever had to do for a variety of reasons. I learned so much about myself, parenthood, Spanish culture, and what it means to serve and love selflessly, unconditionally, and without expecting anything in return. I've really only scratched the surface of these hard lessons and I'm sure to struggle with them the rest of my life. Being stripped of all the normal distractions I have at home and school turned out to be a huge blessing in the lonely and discouraging times since I had nowhere to go but to the Lord. This made it all well worth it to me. Recognizing this as the hardest thing I've ever had to do just means I've had a pretty sweet life I guess.

A couple bad movies, some weird airplane food, and an unsatisfactory nap later, I was back home. I couldn't help my stupid ear-to-ear smile at the "Welcome to the United States of America" sign at Customs. Leaving baggage, I was greeted by beaming parents, balloons, and a beautiful bouquet of flowers was waiting for me in my room at home.

Mom made me a fried chicken dinner with my favorite spinach and strawberry salad and black bottom cupcakes for dessert. The US is so easy. I'm not constantly being misunderstood, can walk around the house barefoot, and feel very loved here. I'm ecstatic to be home with all family and friends and without being responsible for anyone but myself. I'll head back to Harrisonburg in one week and start classes in two...I guess real life had to begin sometime.

Mad about the 'Manc

Back "home" in Madrid, five letters and two packages from the States were waiting for me in mailbox #37...the best!! The Mestre fam was still on vacation, but it was kind of nice having the house to my self for a couple of days to unpack and repack, do laundry, spend time in the city, at the pool, read, and catch up on sleep...sans child duties. Friday, I hopped on the bus to spend my last weekend in Spain (for now, anyways) in my beloved Salamanca.

Since madre and fam spend July and August in their country home in La Rad, I stayed in my friend Cesar's apartment.

view from Cesar's balcony

Lucky for me, Cesar is the most OCD guy I’ve ever met so I knew I’d have clean sheets and towel. An added bonus was that I would be staying in the same place where Alex, Colleen, and I had enjoyed our first authentic Spanish pre-game...AND I was sleeping in Edu’s old room (SUPERGUAY!!!!) Ces cooked every meal for me and refused to let me do anything...even trying to pour my own water was a struggle at times. Only having brought him a small offering of homemade brownies was pretty embarrassing.

If ever I'm sad, I'm pulling out this picture...so rich!

After lunch and siestas had by all, Edu (who had just returned from a year in Germany) and his girlfriend Silvia came over and we spent over three hours catching up. Later on, Edu and Silvia came back over to pre-game...not leaving the apartment until 3:30am (this is what I mean by authentic Spanish pre-game). We spent the wee morning hours at Imprenta and Atahualpa and walked home to the sun coming up at 7:15 just like old times.

me and my chicos :)

Not waking up until the American lunch hour, I made my way to the bus station to change my ticket on account of Sunday's “huelga” (strike). After the Avanza employee assured me that my ticket for Madrid was still valid, I called madre to see if there was a bus from Salamanca to La Rad...maybe I could come eat Sunday lunch with them? When I told her I about my time constraint with my ticket back to Madrid on Sunday evening, she flipped----hija, that's not enough time! Just as before, madre made me change my bus ticket back to Madrid. As I headed BACK to the bus station, I tried hard not to look like a crazy woman laughing to myself in public.

Back at Cesar's for lunch and a much-needed siesta, I went for a long walk around La Plaza and the university, taking advantage of my last opportunity to shop with rebajas prices. Honestly though, it's probably a good thing I’m leaving so soon...not only do I have a problem, but all these purchases will have to make it back in my suitcase somehow.

On my way back to Cesar's, I picked up fruit at Carrefour in attempts to be a semi-helpful guest. Edu and Silvia came over again after dinner and we began the evening the same as the previous: pregame until 3:30, then Imprenta.

Edu, me, Silvia, Cesar

Afterwards, we hit a new bar for me called Pipers and walked home in the broad daylight around 8am:

Turning to say goodbye, I gave Edu a huge hug and started to tear up, which was really embarrassing considering no one else seemed as emotional as the stupid American girl.

Skipping out on another good nights sleep, I relished my two-hour nap before leaving to pick up pastries to bring to madre. I was minding my own business and scarfing down a breakfast danish on the street corner waiting for Isa to pick me up when a 40-something-year-old gentleman approaches me and asks if I am Marisol from blah-di-blah city? I really thought “no” would kind of wrap things up and he'd be on his way, but this soon evolved into a 15 minute convo about his life dream to travel to NY and get involved in the booming film business, etc. When he then asked me if I wanted to grab a coffee, I was thankful to have the "I have to meet a friend" excuse -- (again, we’re wrapping up here, right?) No. This led to him asking me if I had a Spanish phone-- and since I’m the worst liar on the face of the planet--- I found myself looking up my number and giving him the digits so that the next time I’m in Spain we can meet up….que vaaaa (yeah right).

In hopes to grab a coffee (by myself) at café del arte, I saw it was closed...oh Sundays in Spain! I turned to leave but when I saw the metal gate lifting halfway I waited to see if it would be opening after all. Next, my bartender emerged in the doorway. We made eye contact and he beckoned me inside for a coffee. When no lights or anything were being turned on and he made no effort to put on an apron or uniform of any kind, I realized they wouldn't be opening after all…I was just an exception J We talked for a while, exchanged emails, Spanish kissed and said bye until the next time.

By that time, Isa and Escoli were already waiting for me in front of my old apartment and we made the 20-minute drive to La Rad. Once there, I met many extended family members on the back porch. Didn't realize I was going to a family reunion! Their house is spacious and lovely...I now understand why they cherish their vacation time here so much.

Informing madre of my revised ticket back to Madrid, I found out that she had been thinking that I'd be staying with them until the next weekend. I guess I had told her that I had to go back on Saturday, but maybe had failed to mention "back to the STATES". She was so disappointed to find out I would only be there one night, saying she had been so excited about me spending the week with them. Oh my sweet sweet Ascence!

Escoli and I left soon after to walk one of her aunts home one street over. All the way, I awkwardly listened to the aunt talk about how depressing life is when you're old. Very uncharacteristic of me, I literally couldn't think of even one word to say. We took a slight detour on our way back and stopped by a local bar where Escoli treated me to a pinxot (small snack, like personal-sized tapas) of croquetas and canas (small beer). Back at the house, we changed into our bathing suits and hit the pool. Instead of concrete, the pool was surrounded by lush green grass and trees.

Lunch was madre's famous paella. Please for a moment try to imagine me sitting around a table feasting with eight raucous Spanish senior citizens. Seeing as I was an obvious foreigner and (besides Isa) the youngest by at least 50 years, I was given way too much attention and worse, often struggled to understand what they said. One of madre's sisters-in-laws even offered me her 35-year-old son's (who conveniently lived down the road) hand in marriage...still not sure how I got out of that one...

the largest paella known to mankind

As we were cleaning our plates of paella, madre urged us to eat up since she hadn't prepared a second course. This of course turned out to be one sick joke. Before I knew what was happening, Isa and Escoli were bringing out generous wedges of watermelon and honeydew, followed by ice-cream cake and a complimentary super strong liquor (they all thought it was HILARIOUS I couldn’t keep it down). But I'm still not finished. Next was cake Isa had brought back from her time in Galicia….and then of course my stupid pastries, which I had to refuse no fewer than seventeen times. This is so gross just writing about it gives me the gag reflex. I don't want to talk about this anymore.

In pain from lunch and only 12 hours of sleep total in the last 3 days, I retreated upstairs for a powerful nap, even sleeping through “las burras” (what Ascencion's sister secretly said to me of her obnoxious sisters-in-law) yelling curses during their massive card game on the front porch.

Escoli was anxious for a little escape and offered to take me to visit Jesus (my study abroad coordinator) and his family in their chalet nearby. On our way there, we met more of Escoli's extended family (their whole clan seems to be in La Rad!), who within five minutes of meeting had already invited me to come stay in their houses whenever I wanted.

Laura, me, Jesus, Elena

It was great seeing Jesus and we had a great time catching up and sharing updates about the program. As we turned to leave though, little Laura (Jesus' five-year-old daughter) started crying because we wouldn’t be going to the pool with her. So sad.

Almost as soon as Escoli and I had returned from our walk, people began filing out all at once. I gave Escoli a huge hug and Spanish kissed the others goodbye...until the next time.

Escoli and I

I sat on the porch with Ascencion’s older sister (one of her 10 siblings!) enjoying the cool evening air while she recited to me old monologues and prayers and told me funny stories from her childhood. What a fun sweet lady, I loved her! Soon, madre brought out fruit, cheese, bread, more pastries (!!!), and made me my favorite tortilla francesa just like she does (although I really could have survived on the day’s caloric intake for at least the next week).

Way too excited for bedtime, I hit the hay early and slept like a baby until late morning…it’s gonna take me a while to recooperate from two nights of zero sleep. I downed a quick breakfast with madre and her sister and as I left for Sal with Luis and Isa, madre handed me a bag lunch she had prepared for me. I told her I loved her and I’d see her again soon! I'm just praying that her health holds up since the poor woman now walks with a limp :(

All in all, this was a much better visit to Salamanca than the last time because I wasn’t so freaking nostalgic about every little thing. Instead, I was able to relax a bit and didn’t feel like I had to jam pack the sentimental activities as before...

Now I'm back in Madrid for my final three days of work. Home on Saturday!!!!!!

Tschus, Hamburg!

Monday, I relished my last day in Germany spending it in the city with Rudolf and Molly. First stop was the harbor for a boat ride on the Elbe River.

At Rudolf's designated point, we hopped off and bought cherries from a fruit stand. The three of us sat on a bench in the shade lining the water, tossing our cherry pits and stems behind us...another "this is my life" moments. We walked along the water past beautiful houses...

...and beachy shores, stopping for lunch at an outdoor cafe on the water to try herring for the first time. Loved it! But then again when it comes to food, there isn't much I'll say "no thank you" to.

Back on the bus, we headed to the region of Blankenese (literally translates as "shiny nose"). There, we sipped cappuccinos, enjoyed a breathtaking view of the water...

...and strolled around what reminded me a lot of Granada with stacked white houses on coastal cliffs.

Our final destination was to Jo and Torben's apartment, where we ate a dinner of brown bread with assorted cheeses and meats. We said goodbye and Jo made me a nannying job offer for next summer in Hamburg. Jo similarly offered me baby Julia's nannying services for my children in fifteen years or so. Looks like my family planning was just given a timeline!

Weekend in Berlin

At the train station, I expected to be greeted by my dad's friend Christian, but was instead approached by a strange lady asking if I was Sarah. What? Did I stand out or something?? Well, turns out she was very sweet and not so strange after all. She put me in a cab to my hotel, which turned out to be a pretty awkward ride since the only English the driver knew was “please” and “bye bye”...about as extensive as my German.

Once I had checked in and settled into my room, I set out to brave the city streets. By 3, I found myself in the town square, nestled between the TV tower and one of the many cathedrals. Following the nice train station lady's orders, I phoned Christian and 15 minutes later was getting into a black Volvo station wagon of a man I’d never met before on a street corner in Berlin, Germany. Good thing it wasn’t actually as sketchy as it sounds.

After stopping at a café for delicious cheesecake and coffee, Christian showed me around, winding through artsy bookstores and random courtyards. I appreciated this non-touristy, insider's tour of the city.

Next, he dropped me off near a section of the old wall at a museum called Topography of Terror, which featured a collection of photos and stories about the 3^rd Reich. I'm hesitant to say I loved it since it's such a dark and upsetting topic, but it was really fascinating.

This is when I took my first turn at the crazy Berlin metro system. I didn't see one map anywhere, I guess they assume you should just know. I got extremely lucky anyway and ended up in Potsdam Platz and stumbled into an Italian restaurant called Vapiano for dinner. Here, you essentially create your own meal. There were separate lines for pasta, pizza, salad, and beverages...all made to order. When you finish gathering all components of your specially-tailored meal, you awkwardly take your tray and wander through the crowd to find an empty seat at a table. Ok, well maybe I was the only awkward one in the restaurant since I was dining as a party of one...reminded me a bit of the high school lunchroom on the first day of school.

Hopping on the metro once again, I headed back to the hotel. I was just a little too excited to put on my pj's and watch some TV with a chilled glass of white wine. Had I aged 30 years in two months time? Neither can I decide if it's a hurdled milestone or just plain sad that I've become so comfortable with being alone. Anyways, me, myself, and I had a great time regardess.

my sweet hotel room!

Saturday morning I grabbed a blueberry muffin, fresh fruit, and coffee downstairs in the hotel bistro before hitting the metro to meet my tour group at the Brandenbourg Gate.

A Belgian girl I had met during the free tour in Hamburg had highly recommended to me the same tour in Berlin and now I understand why. I loved meeting people during these tours because everyone seemed to have such interesting and adventurous lives. My group's tour guide was an adorable gal from Scotland and I never wanted her to stop talking. We roamed the city on foot and visited Parlser Platz, the site of Hitler's former bunker, the Book Burning Memorial, former SS Headquarters, Checkpoint Charlie, Bebelplatz, and more. One thing though...how are you supposed to pose for a picture by something like the Holocaust Memorial or the Berlin wall? Are you a sick freak if you smile?

Memorial to the Murdered Jews of Europe

Piece of the Wall

Over four hours later, the tour was finally over. Woo baby! Setting out on my own, I tried to go to Pergamon museum (home to the Ishtar gate and more), but seeing as it was already closed, I opted for scaling the top of Reichstag instead.

Inside the dome of the Reichstag

Even though I had to wait in line for over an hour (go figure, it's free), it turned out to be well worth it. Complete with my audio headset, I circled around the glass dome to enjoy the most incredible skyline view of the city.

Feeling content and exhausted after a very long day, I caught the bus back to Mitte (city center) and grabbed dinner at a delicious Korean restaurant appropriately named “YamYam." I really impressed myself on Saturday, having essentially walked non-stop from 10am to 10pm, conquered the bus and metro systems of Berlin, and generally oriented myself in the city. Christian said I what I managed to cover in one day is what most people cover in four. Well call me Ms. Efficient!

Sunday morning (finally sunny!) I walked to a charming little cafe Christian had recommended for breakfast. Since I didn't dare walk in LATE to a GERMAN church (and since my feet were blistering in my heels), I hailed a cab to the Babylon theater for the Berlin Projekt service (ironic name, huh?). Although I didn't really get a whole lot out of the sermon since it was entirely in German, it was really cool to be there. They even sang many of the same songs we sing at McLean Pres, so I just sang along in English.

After the service, Christian invited me to brunch with some of his friends from church. This is when I REALLY wished I spoke German. Although many of them spoke English, I think they often forgot that I couldn't form even one sentence in German. As a result, I did a lot of sitting and listening and trying not to look awkward.

After lunch, Christian took me to pick up my bags from the hotel and show me around the Berlin Projekt offices. There, we met up with co-worker Roman and his girlfriend and headed out once again for iced lattes--that's THREE cafes before 4pm, folks! Ahh to be in Europe.

Just before 6, Christian dropped me off at train station and I was on my way back to Hamburg. Great weekend! Zher cool!

Hamburg Highlights

Seeing as there is far too much to continue in this day-by-day account, I'll save everyone some time and try to stick to the highlights of my two weeks in Germany.

Early in the week, I decided to run through the forest across the way from Molly and Rudolf’s house in Reinbek in attempts to compensate for the European bread diet overload. This was by far the prettiest path I’d ever run. It was bug free, shady, with zero humidity and sunlight trickling in through the leaves. I felt like I had jumped into an enchanted forest from a fairytale. Next thing I knew I was jogging through a golden wheat field under a cloudless blue sky. Unreal. Of course I ended up getting lost in this forest, which made for a longer run...probably a good thing. Maybe I’d go running more often if FC or Harrisonburg had an enchanted forest.

Also on Monday, Jo, Julia (Johanna and Torben's 4-month old), Katrin (Jo's sister), Annika (Katrin's daughter), and I visited a lake nearby in Reinbek. The Hamburgers (hehe) kept complaining about how “hot” the weather was. Although I don’t know the exact conversion equation from centigrade to fahrenheit, it was probably in the 80’s…but without humidity, which makes all the difference. They'd LOVE D.C. in August! This lake is a very special spot for them since it was where they spent most of their childhood summers. Jo and I swam a good distance to a large wooden cross floating in the water and I realized just how out of shape I've become...arriving on the brink of heart-attack usually isn't a great sign.

Spending this summer in Europe, I've seen more than my share of naked children (including ages where it's no longer cute) and the lake was no exception. That's all I'll say about that.

Back home after a delicious dinner of salad and more bread (but who’s surprised?), Jo and I sipped on white wine in the candlelight and treated ourselves to pedicures on the back terrace. Rough life, I could get used to this. Our pedicures were interrupted, however, by a small slurping sound behind me in the garden…a hedgehog was on tiptoes drinking from the birdbath. I flipped. I don’t think I’ve ever seen a hedgehog up close, and they’re as common as squirrels here. Nuts.

On Tuesday, Jo, Julia and I took a stroll around the Castle in Reinbek (also, the site of her and Torben's wedding ceremony). So lovely and right on the water. Every time I wanted to compare Reinbek to Falls Church, this castle and the enchanted forest put me in my place and reminded me how very far from home I actually was.

On Wednesday, Katrin, Annika, Jo, Julia (You-lee-uh) took me to Lunebourg, less than one hour from Reinbek. Lunebourg is a very picturesque little town with classic German architecture. We bought cherries from the farmer's market in front of the town hall...

...and strolled the cobblestone streets until we arrived at Katrin's old apartment. She spent her four years of college here, in the the red light district, no less....how's that for living on a college student's budget?

We finally settled down at an outdoor café for lunch and apfelssula (sp??) (apple juice and tonic water)--very popular here. Germans mix everything from juice to white wine with tonic.

Passing through St. Nicholai church, we stopped by to visit Jo's friend Henny, whose uncle happens to be the agent of a band called Tokio Hotel. She gave us a tour of their studio, which is attached to their already incredible house. Apparently, Tokio Hotel is extremely famous in Japan and Europe so they couldn't believe I'd never heard of the teeny band. If they ever strike it big in the States, I saw them here first.

Thursday, I ventured into Hamburg to take advantage of the sites (...and maybe do some shopping?? It had been almost a week after all). Once there, I met up with a free walking tour group, which provided a 3-hour orientation of the city. We visited town hall, the Chile Haus, the Afrika Haus, the new concert hall construction on the harbor, St. Nicholai:

...among a variety of other famous sites.

Jens and I had made vague plans to hang out at the conclusion of my tour. Phoning him to decide on a meeting place, our call timed out at 20 seconds, right after he asked the pivotal, "Where are you?" This began my 2-hour Vodafone adventure. Asking strangers where the nearest Vodafone shop was, I tried to put money on my card ASAP so I could call him back. Turned out that the closest Vodafone was a good 20-minute walk from where I was, but I had no other option. After spending at least 15 minutes conversing with the crankiest salesman I've ever encountered regarding my options, I discovered that my Spanish phone didn't support international service. The next option was to buy a German card in attempts to "fool" the phone into temporarily denying its Spanish heritage. This might have worked if my phone weren't the most primitive model ever created.

By this time, nearly an hour had gone by and Jens and I had no means of connecting. Frantic, I searched for a pay phone (a nearly dead form of communication today). Thankfully, I didn't have to look far before I spotted a pink T-Mobile box across the street. It took me a while to figure out why my coins weren't going in until someone told me I had to have a T-Mobile phone card to operate the machine. ARE YOU KIDDING ME!?

This is when all my pride flew out the window and I humbled myself to the mercy of complete strangers. I approached the nearest passerby and offered her 2 euros to make a phone call on her cell...I'd made a human pay phone out of her. I tried to ignore the look on her face as she handed me the phone and my shaking fingers punched in Jen's number. I dialed twice, but got no response. NOW WHAT? This wasn't part of my plan. Had we been on Spanish time, this whole fiasco might have been forgivable, but Germans are painfully punctual. I was on German time and in the process of ruining a brand new friendship.

Feeling defeated and knowing full well I'd need to make more calls while in the country, I ventured back into Vodafone to shamelessly purchase an entirely new German phone. The salt in my wound was finding out that the "cheapest one possible" was out of stock in all 3 surrounding Vodafone stores. To make this already very long story a little bit shorter, I finally caved and bought the 50-euro phone and 10-euro phone card, leaving the store sniffly and teary-eyed.

Two hours after the initial call with Jens cut short, I tried him again. I guess you could call this the 60-euro phone call. Turns out he never got my missed calls and we didn't end up meeting. Good thing my dad loves Germany and can use this stupid phone when he comes back....an investment maybe?

In attempts to take my mind off the last two hours (I'll probably die an early death now from that maintained stress level) I ventured to the top of another St. Nicholai Cathedral that was partially bombed in WWII for an unimpressive skyline view. Still upset, I grabbed a Doner from a wine festival in the town square and did a little shopping in efforts to shake my mood.

Back "home" in Reinbek, Rudolf (Jo's dad) welcomed me at the metro station. Jo and Torben (who actually live in the city) had only been housesitting for Jo's parents while they were vacationing on an isle in the North Sea. Rudolf and Molly are adorable and I loved spending our few remaining evenings together sitting in their living room talking over fruit and ice cream. I love the way Rudolf says "garden" (yard) and "holiday" (vacation) as a result of his studies in British English. Molly's English is extremely limited and when Rudolf wasn't there to translate we did a lot of pointing and smiling. They really don't seem like such distant relatives to me :)

Sunday in Hamburg

Sunday morning I woke up late and enjoyed breakfast with Torben and Johanna in the garden. German breakfast is typically coffee, hardboiled eggs, brown bread and whatever you choose to layer on top: anything from meat and cheese to butter and marmalade. I LOVE eating meals in the back on their terrace. Molly (Johanna’s mother) is really a professional gardener and I always felt like I’d jumped into a home and garden magazine.

After breakfast, we drove into the city to walk around downtown Hamburg through the remains of the morning triathalon. While most of the buildings are not very old, being destroyed in either the great fire of 1842 or bombed in the Second World War, they are very spread out and grand. Hamburg is so beautiful and abnormally green for a large city...AND right on the water. Apparently, it has even more bridges than Venice. I KNEW I was in a foreign country when I noticed how diligent people were about following pedestrian laws. Even if no cars were coming, until the light turned green and they were given the signal, not one person crossed the street. Amazing.

Stopping for coffee, we enjoyed the added benefit of a view of sailboats on the Alster river. Once again, I felt as if I had stepped inside a postcard.

Later, Torben and Jo dropped me off at the Hamburg Projekt for church. This is a mission my church and dad faithfully support and I was anxious to connect with people there and see what all the fuss was about. I especially like that the church meets in a music bar. Jo and Torben couldn’t understand why they were dropping me off at a bar when I said I was going to a church service, but I kind of enjoyed the added irony.

Daniel Bartz, the pastor had told me to get there early and he would be waiting outside of the church. I arrived on time, but he was nowhere to be found...or so I thought. I had only seen one picture of him, after all. I picked up a program which proved pointless since its contents were entirely in German. I tried to act like I knew what I was doing while others surrounded me deep in conversation with dear friends. I have ever been so awkward. Finally I asked a random guy if Daniel was there and turns out I asked just the right person. Jens said he had just gotten off the phone with Daniel, who had asked him to look out for me and show me around. Thanks God! After he introduced me to a few people, we bought cokes and took our seats in the “VIP section” of the church where he translated the entire service for me. The leather armchairs and suspended blue lighting reminded me a little bit of McLean Presbyterian ;)

Jens and I were the very last people to leave the church since he was busy with music technical stuff and I was busy meeting really fun, interesting people. Afterwards, a bunch of us headed to what Germans call a “beach club.” This is such a cool concept: a manmade beach in the middle of the city. We crossed the sandy path and found seats on the “boardwalk” to enjoy currywurst and Beck's beer with lemonade (my new favorite summer beverage). We closed it down and I made the metro just before the last train to Reinbek J

Weekend in Bonn and Cologne with Mae!

Just as recklessly as I had bought my plane ticket to Hamburg, I found myself purchasing a train ticket to Cologne the very same night I arrived in Germany...and less than 12 hours before I planned to leave on the four-hour journey.

My dear friend, Mae, had studied in Cologne for a year in high school and had also conveniently found herself back there that weekend on an impromptu euro-trip among her travels in the Middle East.

Mae and I had only mentioned meeting up in Germany and given our limited Internet access, I was praying she would truly be in Cologne to pick me up. I called her Romanian cell phone from my Spanish one and was greeted by a shrill and shocked voice that didn’t even know I was coming because she hadn't read my email. Before I knew it, I was being grabbed from behind by a crazy girl who had dressed up her pjs with a blazer. We held hands all the way back to her friend Sarah's apartment, laughing in unbelief that we (who usually hang out in boring FC) had rendezvoused in Cologne, Germany!

Meanwhile, I was clamoring my suitcase over countless pairs of sandled feet without knowing the German equivalent for "excuse me" or "sorry"…I would later find out that this was actually very German anyways. I was just trying to blend in ;)

Back in Sarah’s apartment, I had interrupted a strange breakfast with three random German guys they’d met the night before. We overloaded on Mae’s Jello pancakes with sprinkles and pastries topped with a sugary frosting that looked just a little too similar to scrambled eggs. And then became diabetic.

Mae and I left to help take out the trash and our three-minute trip soon turned into three hours at a nearby café over white wine and coffee. Embarrassed, we returned bearing apology offerings a couple bottles of wine for Sarah and Greg before heading out to dinner (another agreement from the anonymous German men we still didn’t know the names of).

Dinner was lovely, beginning with wine on the balcony. They served stewed beef, carrots, and mushrooms, and of course a baguette. Yes, a guy really made this.

Later on in the evening, we left to visit a bar for a friend’s last night of work. I’m so thankful so many people speak English here because smiling and pointing proves difficult for making friends. Back “home,” Mae and I fell asleep pretzel style on the white skinny couch. There aren’t many people I’d let stick their feet in my face for hours on end, but this is how much I love her.


Friday morning, we woke up to sweet Sarah bringing in breakfast: a dark chocolate version of nutella on fresh rolls, German yogurt, juice, and coffee. When our lazy butts finally decided to greet the day and breath in some fresh air, Mae and I decided to be productive and buy cameras. How ridiculous is it that all three of us had either lost or broken our cameras?!

Once in MediaMart, we were immediately overwhelmed. Mae started to convince herself she was actually a professional photographer who needed to buy a 2,000 euro camera with money she didn’t have. Finally, we opted for little black sonys about a 20th of the cost because the German salesman said they were “soop-air!” ...I probably would have bought any camera that man told me to.

We didn’t make it one block before we stopped at a cute outdoor café for my first (of many, I hope) currywurst and french-fries --smothered in a generous glob of mayo.

Next stop was H&M to buy Mae a shirt since doing laundry is obviously more difficult. Two hours later we immerged with big bags of clothes we didn't need. Major blackout. Note: if you bring in 37 items to the dressing room, the employees will hate you and mysteriously “lose” the rest of your clothing pieces after trip #4. Probably for the best.

We finally left, feeling stressed, upset, and exhausted. We zigzagged into a coffee shop and then into the most incredible gummy bear store (Bearen-something) for sustenance. They had gummy bears in every shape and flavor. The sweet gummy Frau in the store gave us lots of free samples, which resulted in us buying 2 big bags “for the other Sarah.” What can I say? She’s a good businesswoman.

Feeling the need for a real meal and maybe a vegetable or two, we enjoyed a salad and quieche surrounded by ivied-brick and tiny purple flowers overflowing from large terracotta pots. I sipped my Kolsch (typical beer of Cologne) and had one of those all-too-familiar, “this is my life” moments.

Since we had eaten salad, we were of course allowed to get gelato. Every other shop was a bakery or gelato and it was just about driving us nuts. Good thing I don’t live in Cologne. Getting two cones for less than the price of one on account of us "being so cute" made the treat that much sweeter :) I tell you, it’s a beautiful thing to be a young female in Europe.

I honestly hate that this is another food story, but it’s definitely note-worthy, so bear with me. Doner Kebap is all over Spain (and apparently Germany too) and I’m praying that America will catch on in the near future. It’s much like a gyro, but more incredible. Anyways, Mae and I had a plan to eat a doner each day we were together and we nearly succeeded. Each place has their own unique spin on doner and this place made their's particularly dry. Mae was getting sick of my fussing and finally told me to go in with my half-eaten sandwich and ask for more white sauce. Without hesitation, I marched back into the joint and asked for more white sauce on my half-eaten sandwich like any shameless homeless person would do. My rationale? I’m foreign and this isn’t real life.



On Saturday, we finally decided to be productive and do something touristy since two days later and we still hadn’t been to the ONE main attraction in Cologne. The Dome is a huge cathedral and we stupidly decided to scale the top for a view of the city --I’m just glad I didn’t realize how high it was before we started. I say they just install an elevator and then we can all do without the profuse sweating and panic attack.

Skipping down to the bottom, we crossed over to the train station and ventured to Bonn, where Mae had lived with (and subsequently ran away from her host family) as a 15-year-old. I reveled in that risk factor that we could run into her host family at any time.

It was an extremely nostalgic experience for her and I loved being there to see her old stomping grounds. This is when I forced Mae to take a tour of Beethoven’s house, being that it's really the only tourist attraction in Bonn, which ended up being disappointing and mildly depressing. For such a small, seemingly insignificant town, it’s pretty hard to believe it used to be the nation’s capital.

To reward ourselves for doing so much walking, we stopped at an Eis Café (ice cream café)….another thing America is seriously lacking. They serve ice cream sundaes and nothing else…the entire menu is chock-full of impressive combinations from chocolate mocha to berry blast.

All too soon, we had to hit the train back to Cologne, and then on to Hamburg for me. (By the way, Germans don’t find it necessary to check metro or train tickets??)

All in all, we were amazingly lucky to see and do all that we did for being extremely stupid most of the time –no planning, just doing, which seemed to work out in our favor. The most exercise I got was bringing a fork to my mouth and laughing, but that’s part of why I love my sweet Mae so much!