I know that I promised all of you I would be updating this blog when I arrived. I'm sorry that I didn't do a good job of that. I will try to do better in the next month.
Yep, that's right. I've been here about a month, now. I won't lie to you. It's been a rough transition. Although we knew, statistically, that there were very few young adults running around Eisleben, before I came, nothing could have prepared me for the reality of that experience. EVERYONE leaves after graduating or finishing their practical training. That's not true. Most people leave. The others resigned themselves at the age of 16 to a life financed by generous German unemployment benefits and alcoholism. After living in a college town my entire life, this is a world I never imagined. It's difficult to find things to talk about with the majority of the people I meet. The students from the youth group are a welcome change--as Gymnasiumschüler, they all expect to go to college--it's weird that the closest thing I have to friends are all 17 years old. True, German kids grow up faster. But then when you sit in a bar with them, and they talk about their 18th birthday party like it was yesterday, not because they're swept up in nostalgia, but because it actually WAS yesterday... and then, inevitably, someone mistakes me for a 19 year old and I have to say, no, actually, I'm 22. You wouldn't believe the blank stares. What the hell is a 22 year old doing in Eisleben hanging out with us?
I guess I should address my apartment somewhat as well. After I got over the jet lag, this apartment started to creep me out. I mean, you saw it. It's huge. I've spent the last four years sharing a tiny room with someone. Before that, I lived with my parents. On top of that, I hated the feeling that no one would be looking for me immediately if anything happened. The people who've lived here for a while all talk about Eisleben like it's the perfect town. People walk around at night by themselves, down alleys with no lamps (granted, it does get dark at 5pm, so you don't exactly have an option all the time). But no matter what I did, I was creeped out. So, my unbelievably awesome "host parents" that didn't really sign up for host parent duty let me sleep upstairs in the attic for about a week. I've been back downstairs for 3 1/2 weeks now, and I'm doing considerably better. But this house is nearly 350 years old. It creaks. It whispers. And I'm alone. It's a weird feeling.
I went to Erfurt last week to check things out for the spring break trips. I also visited the son of the people I live with, Philip, who is finishing up his studies there. He's becoming an elementary school teacher. I had a lot of fun, and I promise I'll write more details soon.
This week we have a vacation bible school type thing going on up at St. Anne's, and Thursday I'm going to Wittenberg to scope out the city tour situation. Next Sunday I'm going back to Köthen to visit with Steffi and Franzi. I cannot even explain my excitement.
Tonight I hosted youth group at my house, since Scott is on vacation. Since I was missing home, I hosted my own little pancake supper (which is a fat tuesday tradition in my family/at CU campus ministry). It went fairly well, although all the Germans wanted to eat jam on their pancakes instead of syrup and I had to eat all the bacon myself (YEAH I FOUND BACON IN GERMANY WHOOT!) because they refused to mix sweet and salty at dinner time... Oh, German culinary rules. Will you never fail to ruin my parties?
Anyway, the point is that I'm really tired, so I'm going to go to sleep now to get ready for our last day of Kindertage. I will do my best to write more tomorrow, or at the very least this weekend.
xoxo
ps. THANKS to everyone who's sent me mail. I got 5 letters today and was so excited, I ran upstairs to show the Quenzels. They think I'm weird, but I say, keep 'em comin!
3 comments:
I've never been a fan of feeling obligated to keep in touch with people, so I'd write as little or as much as you want.
Hey I hang around 7 year olds all day, and I have to resist the urge to complain about people "messing with me", which includes touching, talking, looking, breathing, and existing in the same general area. There's nothing wrong with feeling like a kid from time to time... so long as you're not Michael Jackson.
Man the lack of transitions between my responses to various topics is killing me, but I feel like going at it random style at the moment.
Even as someone who has gone through great efforts to isolate myself, I still like knowing other people exist somewhere close enough to smell my rotting corpse.
Screw the rainbow God. You want to make up for wiping us out? Give us more shit like bacon. If they opened up a fast food place that sold nothing but drive through bacon, I'd be 500 lbs in a week, and I'd love every minute of it.
PS - Don't expect any letters from me. That shit costs money. Teh internets is free.
oh, david...
Great idea for the dinner! I got two letters the entire time I was there. You beat me in a single day! The Quenzel's think I'm crazy... I did so much weird stuff.
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