Language Immersion for Tom

The other day I had the chance for a full immersion language experience.  The research group to which I am attached had its bi-weekly meeting.  My colleague fortunately pointed out that this would be my opportunity to provide the “Einstand” in the form of a cake or something similar.  Einstand literally means “start of a new job,” and it refers to the tradition (expectation) of the new guy providing treats for all of his new colleagues.  When I told Jens that in the USA it was basically the reverse – the colleagues would provide food to welcome the new guy – he said that in the end it all works out, because after you are the new guy once, you will enjoy other Einstands from other new people later.  This plays an important social function, he said, in ensuring that the community gets to have plenty of occasions to eat cake.

                So I stopped by the backerei to purchase some Streuselkuchen and Zuckerkuchen before the meeting.  I had asked how many people would be at the meeting, and Jens said about 15, but since there was another new team member, she would bring some cake too, so I need not feed all 15.  Well apparently the other new colleague bakes, so she brought in some homemade lemon cake and cheese cake. We had to wait until the end of the business meeting before Jens announced that thanks to the new team members we could proceed to enjoy the cake, to which all assembled responded by rapping their knuckles on the table (I suppose that is like giving us applause).

                The meeting itself was conducted entirely in German.  Unfortunately for me, they did not speak about their names, where they lived, what they were studying in school, or their hobbies – all topics for which my brief stint as a German 101 student last fall had prepared me well.  Instead they were discussing some matters related to research or curriculum or something.  I did catch a few English phrases, including a workshop somebody had been to for “Presenting in English” and also an effort related to “interdisciplinary sustainability”.  But beyond that, I could not fathom the gist of the conversation.  So I just sat there and listened, assuming people thought I understood more than I did.  (I suppose what gave me away was when somebody said a remark that elicited laughter but I didn’t laugh.)  It is a bit surreal to be sitting around a circle and everyone but you is following the conversation.  It’s easy to think perhaps they are talking about you, but I think I would have recognized a reference to “der Amerikaner.”

Ich Bin Bake!

I am baking!  One of my favorite hobbies and one which I can semi-prepared to do while here.  When selecting what to bring from my kitchen at home, my mind immediately went to my must-have baking tools such as silicone scrapers, measuring cups and spoons, muffin tins, a small rolling pin, and silicone rolling mat.  I brought three baking books: my hefty King Arthur Bakers Companion (only1 of 3), Scandinavian Baking Book, and an old Danish cookbook.  I brought the two Scandinavian books with the reasoning that some of the recipes and ingrediets would be similar to what I could find here in Northern Germany.  I made sure that one of my measuring cups had an ample marking of metric measurements.  These are my basic of basic tools, many others didn't make the cut (like my Kitchen Aide mixer)

Additionally, after reading some blogs by Americans living in Germany, and other references, to see what people miss or made sure to bring with/have sent to them in Germany, I brought a few baking ingredients: baking powder and soda, brown sugar, and chocolate chips (mostly for the kids).  I had learned that the leavening ingredients here were a little different formulations and that the product labeled here as "braun sugar" was more like what we call turbinado or unrefined sugar and drier than the US version.  I had been told that the wheat flour here is also different, but I couldn't justify bringing 10 pounds of flour!

It has taken me a while to have time or energy to bake since we got here.  With all the walking and our kitchen's ceramic tile floor, standing for any length in the kitchen has not been appealing. Also, O requires a lot of my FOCUSED attention these days ("mommy do this"  "mommy watch me") and after attempting Halloween sugar cookies last fall, I have decided to wait until he is three before cooking anything with more than 3 ingredients with his "help".  Also, my usual naptime respite from kid duties has been cut short or nonexistent since arriving here since the girls can begin arriving home from school as early as 12:15!

I decided to start my baking with something very familar, simple, and comforting to my kids: chocolate chip cookies! Cookies are not easy to come by here - most of the store-bought cookies are variations of the English vanilla biscuit/tea time cookies with chocolate or fruit fillings/coating and the bakeries only have the bland spritz type cookies (blech).  So, we were craving some American-style cookies.

I was actually all set to bake two days ago, but, after opening the cookbook, realized I had overlooked several ingredients I am simply used to always having "on hand". Just run to the store you say?  Not so fast...another German adventure is in store (ha!)!

I tried out a different store yesterday one we happened upon during some local exploring, which turned out to be the largest one I have found with a nice selection.  I could write a whole blog on grocery shopping here, so I will save that for another day and just describe some of the ingredients pertaining to baking today.  First, the flour: nearly everything comes in smaller packaging and flour is no exception.  The largest package I could find is 1000 g (or 1 kg) about 1/2 the size (mass) of the smallest package I buy at home.  This will do for now and is easier to carry home, but wouldn't normally last long in our house.  Then, reading the label beyond just "wheat flour"; I am a pretty avid baker, so I know several types and uses for flour, but I was not prepared for them to be labeled with type numbers.  I had no idea of the difference, but some showed pictures of breads and some showed pictures of pastries, so I took a chance on type 405.

Next, vanilla extract.  The baking aisle is pretty extensive with all kinds of decorating (fun!) ingredients like marzipan shapes and chocolate sprinkles, fruit and custard fillings, more marzipan, oodles of baking mixe,s and several "essences" of enticing flavors I must take home with me, but the only vanilla I found was bean, sugar, and a very expensive small bottle of essence.  After much debate, I went with the vanilla sugar since it was cheap and I was curious.

Now, shortening.  Not in the baking aisle.  Not in the section with the oils - which took a long time to locate, right next to the ketchup.  Not with the lard in the "cultured milk" and soft cheeses section of the dairy case.  Ah, finally, in the vast selection of margarine and "butter-like" spreads!  I think.  There were two choices: one seemed like it came in sticks, similar to American butter, but smaller and quite hard (even more than would be expected in the refrigerated case) and another in a small tub container like the margarine (which are more rectangular than round here).  My limited language skills were telling me I was as close as I was likely to get and I couldn't bring myself to open the lid in the store.  The only thing I was concerned about was what kind of "pflanzfett", or plant fat, I would be getting.  The name brand was "Palmin" and I was really hoping it wasn't palm oil.

The only ingredient I couldn't find was corn syrup (an optional ingredient anyway).  Germans don't seem to have any kind of syrup, but I was hoping maybe Golden Syrup from the UK would make an appearance. Nope - I'll have to keep my eyes open for that one elsewhere.

So, today I sat down to do a little research before I started.  I found that Vanilla sugar contains real vanilla and can be used as a substitute for extract, 1 tsp sugar for each 1/4 tsp, but the information was varied as to whether one should also decrease the sugar.

I also found a great source giving the equivalents of German four grading and American flour categories: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Flour.  Turns out I bought the equivalent of American "pastry" flour rather than "all-purpose".  This makes sense that it would be prevelant here (I can usually only find limited selection of pastry flour in the US) since German baking involves more pastries rather than cookies or quick breads.  I'd have to see what it would do for cookies.

I had to pull out my big German-English dictionary to read the "shortening" label.  Fortunately, it was a fairly limited lable and ingredients.  Pure plant oil it said, but I am not exactly sure what kind.  It will have to do.

A note about the oven:  It uses Celsius, of course, which is easy to convert (with charts), but the baking dial has several symbols which I have yet to know if I understand.  It seems to show that I can choose between top heat, bottom heat, or both-we have used the "both" symbol with success so far in other cooking.  I believe there is also a broil feature, but one I'm very unsure about it the fan symbol.  It could be convection, but it seems that the fan is always on!  One of my favorite features of the oven is that, rather than having racks to adjust, the pans themselves fit into rails on the inside of the oven!  It comes with two baking sheets, a broiling pan, and a conventional rack.

I am a pretty good baker, but it has more to do with experience and careful following of technique, rather than a good working knowledge of the specifics of how certain ingredients work. Additionally, I follow directions really well, but don't venture too far beyond the written recipe. This could be the time to learn more about the ingredients and experiment to see what works best.  I am sure my family won't complain!

The cookies turned out to be pretty good.  They were flatter than I like, which can indicate an overly warm batter or too hot oven, but it could be the leavening and flour interactions.  However, A was ecstatic when she came home from school and said they were just the way she likes!

Being "On"

Being a newcomer to a foreign country and learning to adapt and live in that country, especially with the language barrier, is, quite frankly, quite exhausting.  I feel like most of the day I am on high-alert trying to understand what is being said, by people, advertisements, signs, and food packaging, formulate the right phrases to get me what I need, and paying attention to all the social and cultural cues.  Our whole family is being challenged to rethink how we do things and devising new routines and habits.  It is exciting and fun, much of the time, but it can leave us drained by the end of the day.

For example: Luneburg has a fabulous farmers market on Saturday and Wednesday mornings.  Our local friend described it to us as a "small" market.  For us, it turned out to be HUGE.  Back in Ohio we have a Farmers market which has only been established the last five years or so.  We feel lucky that it is located right at the end of our street, is open generally May (plants and a few veggies) through October, and extends more than a full block along one side of the street.

The Luneburg market, however is located in the central cobblestone square and takes up an entire square block and has a year-round offering of fruits, veggies, cheeses, meat and seafood, breads and baked goods, flowers, and dry good such as beans and seasonings.  We could almost do our entire grocery shopping here.

For the inexperienced and non-native speaker, it can also be intimidating.  Of course, you have to TALK to the shop keepers; easy enough if what you want is right in front of you and you simply point and hold up your fingers to show what you want (be sure to use your thumb to indicate one, adding fingers from there) or you can use a limited vocabulary of numbers and read the food name from the sign.  If you do not have a good knowledge or pronunciation of the food vocabulary, you can do as I do, move from stall to stall until you find a couple of items you need within close pointing range - these stalls are pretty big, by the way- and then move on to the next stall.

Germans don't have a good habit of queuing up, so you need to be somewhat assertive about your turn, but I have found most stall workers to be very friendly and helpful.  The produce is usually sold by the kilo, so you need to have a good idea of just how much you want.  Except mushrooms.  These are sold by 100 grams!  Additionally, there is the "funny-money" Euros to sort out - coins come in 2 and 1 Euro (two colored) and then 50, 20, 10, 2, and 1 cent pieces.  We have ended up with a lot of coin cash because we don't want to hold people up as we sort through them.

So, produce is not so bad and the bakery is about the same, but I haven't gotten up the courage to try purchasing fish or meat.  It all looks good and fresh, but 1.) I'm not used to buying directly from the butcher/fishmonger, even at home, 2.) I am not sure about the German words for varieties, cuts, and preparations, and 3.) those pesky kilos!  I need to find an English speaking friend to coach me through this.  Tom has managed to buy cheese from the cheese monger, which has similar challenges.


By the time we finish with the market, we are all tired and drained from the metric converting (or guessing), mental translating, the crowds, and generally being alert to the people, culture, and architecture surrounding us.  We have heavy bags of produce and baked goods to carry home (walking!).  However, there is still time, and just a few Euros left to treat ourselves to something yummy from the bakery or Italian icecram cones!  What an experience!

I Can Speak to Preschoolers - Sort Of

A friend here in Luneburg directed me to a reading hour for preschoolers she had read about in the local paper.  My friend, Antje (Aunt-Yah), lives in Luneburg with her husband, Jens (Yens), the university professor who invited Tom here, and their three year old daugter.  She works part time in Hamburg, a 40 minute train ride each way, with Thursdays off.  She has been helping me to find ways for O and I to occupy ourselves, especially in the morning.

So, it turns out that this reading hour is offered for free through a social work program at a facility just 10 minute walk from where we live.  On the morning I was to go, just me and O, I started to lose courage about managing alone and started making excuses, but Tom pretty much pushed us out the door and on our way.

The foyer had a sign on the wall which I determined said to park strollers there but I wasn't sure about the one on the inside door.  It was locked, with no "buzzer", but I could see the moms and kids milling about just inside.  Some looked in my direction, but made no move to let me in.  I tried to act casual, like I knew what I was doing, when another mom appeared.  She didn't make an attempt to talk to me, but did gesture to me to open the door and I found that this time it was unlocked.  Hmmm....

I was pretty sure this was the right time and place: moms and kids about Oskar's age, little cushions arranged in a circle around a mat, but still noone made a move to greet me and I couldn't tell which one of the adults was in charge.  Again, I just pretended I knew what I was doing: took off our coats, hats and shoes (always take off your shoes indoors - Germans have a thing about this) and looked to see what the other moms and kids were doing.  Finally someone approached me and asked something in German.  I replied that I only knew a little bit of German and did they speak English.  "Nein", but the two women replied in a friendly and welcoming way, so we made ourselves comfortable.

There were no toys around, but there were a few shelves of books.  Most turned out to be parenting books, but there was one book that caught our attention: "My First Book of... city/transportation/something of that nature".  Just as we started to open the book, a boy about three years old sidled up beside us and asked, "Wie heist er?" OO-OOO! I know that one: What is his name?  So I introduced him to Oskar and was able to ask his name, too.  Then we began reading the book. I wasn't about to start laboring through the text and risk losing my audience, so I simply started asking, "Was ist das?" and pointing to the pictures in the book so the boy could tell us the name of the objects in German and I could repeat them to O.  Cool!

When we finally got started with the program, we all sat around the play mat on the little cushions.  Now, fortunately I have lots of experience with these types of programs, so when the songs began, I was able to get the gist of their meaning fairly quickly - not to mention my extensive backgound in preschool level German vocabulary!  The first one was, of course, a "hello" song and included greeting each child by name.  They paused when they came to us (obviously the other kids had been here plenty of times before) and I told them O's name.  I had to repeat myself a few times, and they struggled with it, them moved on.  This was the first time anyone had a hard time with his name - and then I realized that I had pronounced it with "American" vowels rather than "German" vowels AND that I was obviously dealing with women who had no training in English.  I don't expect that all Germans should speak some English, but I have found it to be the case that most Germans do.

As expected, the songs (and there were several) involved the usual preschool topics - animals, trains, body parts, and general silliness - and ample hand and body motions to copy.  One I recognized and actually knew the "words" to - with some variation, "Ram Sam Sam"!  Another involved walking around the circle- like a train, I deciphered- and each time we stopped, a child was asked to name an animal, some words were sung and the animal sound made (animals speak in different languages, too) and then they made a gesture which I could not quite determine if it was pushing the animal onto the full train or shooing him off the train.  When it came to O, he chose a rabbit, an animal which, of course, I do not know the name, nor does it make a sound.  So, I swallowed my discomfort,  stuck two fingers up on my head for ears, and hopped.  They were pleased with this and continued with the song,  hopping like rabbits.

During the train song, as we were going round the circle, O very much wanted to jump and walk on the floor cushions.  This seemed like a normal desire of a two year old who looks at every obstacle as a possible jumping point, but none of the other kids were thus tempted.  Was it against the rules here or was it part of the "don't put your feet on the furniture" culture?  No one said anything, but it was all I could do to keep him off the cushions and avoid a possible social faux pas.

At some unseen signal from the leaders, a couple kids ran over to a blanket covering something and revealed a wooden treasure chest containing, at last, books!  The chest was brought over to the center of the circle and the kids helped themselves and the moms all started reading to their kids.  To our delight, there were several books which were German versions of books we own or have read before.

We were allowed to read freely for about 15 minutes and then the books were collected and the program ended. Whew!  We did it.  We managed a social activity with not a whit of English and are looking forward to returning next week.  I just need to brush up on my German animals.....

The Musik Mafia

(from Tom)

In my Ohio State German class I learned the term for listening to music as a hobby, “Musik hören,” and our vacation house has a nice stereo system ("Stereoanlage”) with FM radio.  I have found a couple of radio stations that play rock and pop music, so I like to have these on in the morning while O. and I get breakfast (Kristin is out bussing the girls to school).  The morning radio listening is a habit I acquired back home, as I could listen to NPR and get my news and weather before heading to work.  But I think listening to German language on the radio is the most difficult setting, since there are no visual cues to help you with the context.  I know that “Wetter” is “weather”, but I have not been able to catch this amid the dialogue.  So mostly I listen to the radio for the music.  The two stations at the right end of the dial are similar in style of music played, which is an eclectic mix of U.S., British, and German rock and pop music.  Yesterday I heard a song by the Scorpions (a Hannover band) followed by “We Are the World” followed by Katy Perry.  I also recall hearing two particular songs more than once within the first few days:  a song by Mike + The Mechanics – “Silent Running” (“Can you hear me running, can you hear me calling you?”) and the theme song from Dirty Dancing – “Time of my life”.  Not sure what this says about German sensibilities.

                Regarding radios and televisions, Germany has an unusual system of supporting them.  A quarterly tax of 50 Euros is levied by the government to all tv owners, and radio owners have to pay an additional smaller amount.  The funds go to the public broadcasting corporation.  The benefit to the listener is that after 8:00 pm there are no commercials on the radio, and cultural programming is supported.  In other words, this is the NPR model without the pledge drives – instead of asking for your voluntary donations, the State comes knocking on your door to force you to pay.  Literally.  My colleague told me of a time when he had moved into a new apartment and the next day the tax collector knocked on his door to demand payment for the tv and radio tax.  At the time my colleague had no tv.  The dialogue went something like this:

                “Good afternoon sir, I am here to collect the tv tax.  I assume you have a tv?”

                “Actually, I don’t have a tv.”

                “Right then, I will put you down for just one tv.  That will be 50 Euros.”

                “No, I do not have any television.”

                “Well surely you must have a television.  Everybody has a television these days. And I’m sure you were just about to make the payment, so you can do so right now.”

                “But I haven’t got a television”

                “I see, okay then, I have filled out your bill.  It says one television.  Please sign and make the payment now.”

                My colleague eventually turned him away.  He said the collectors get commission for each tax collected, so they sound a bit like NPR meets the Mafia.

My Geburtstag in Germany

(from R.)

First of all, I have to tell you that in Germany it is bad luck to celebrate your birthday before the actual day.  Oops - I had an early birthday party in Columbus before we left!  I have had no bad luck except when my e-reader had a run-in with my sister's foot.
     Today when I woke up I remembered it was my birthday and lay in bed thinking about what I would get.  When I walked into the kitchen, Mommy and Daddy were there and sang Happy Birthday to me (in English), but my brother and sister were still asleep. So we had to wait until they woke up before digging into the delicious pastries that were set out on the table.   I also had some fresh squeezed orange juice that looked like a raw egg in a glass, but it was good.
     After breakfast we were heading out the door when the doorbell rang.  Who could it be?  It was my friends Anabell and Maike, and Anabell had baked me a cake! With 11 candles on top!  And it was still warm!  Maike brought me a box decorated with a chocolate rabbit and inside the box was lip gloss, eye cream, and a ceramic angel. Anabell's mother had driven them to my house because she knew where I lived because on Thursday I took a wrong bus and ended up going to Anabell's house and her mother drove me home with the help of a GPS.
     Next we walked to Am Sande (downtown) and visited the farmer's market. I bought a glass of more freshly squeezed orange juice (squeezed by a fancy machine) for 1.40 Euros, and I got a mini carrot given to me for free by a vendor. Then we wandered around for a LONG time (about an hour) looking for a Creperie, because I specifically wanted to have crepes for lunch and I had seen one on our first full day in Germany, but we didn't remember where it was.  So eventually we found a different restaurant, and it actually had crepes!  They call them Pflannenkuchen.  Mine came with syrup. Yum:)  My brother had crepes with applesauce; he was supposed to dip the crepes in the applesauce but instead he ate all the applesauce first.  So he was willing to share some of his naked crepes with me.
     After lunch we visited the toy shop because I was eager to check if my favorite dragon was still there.  It was, and I had enough birthday money to buy it along with a surprise Littlest Pet Shop animal.  (My pet dragon Lupin is sitting here helping me write this blog.) I felt conspicuous lugging around a dragon in a large box, walking all the way home.  I made it with the help of some french fries, which they call "pommes frites".  You can get garlic sauce or tomato sauce if you want, but instead they just squirted a bunch of ketchup on the top of them for us.
     Back home Mommy got out some funny shaped balloons to blow up.  One of them promptly popped while she was blowing it up.  One was shaped like a banana - it popped when it brushed the brick wall.  When our friends Jens, Antje, and Ada came over, my brother was excited because he had been waiting and waiting and waiting to eat the cakes.  One was the cake from Anabell, the other was from a baeckerei -- it was cherry cake with streusel topping.  Yum :)
     The birthday was fun, and I enjoyed having it on the weekend so I didn't have to rush off to school.  I also liked it when my siser sent me on a treasure hunt with clues around the house.  The reward was some delicious duck marshmallows. Quack :)  Then I sent her on a treasure hunt for a clay duck.
     I felt very special when I received a letter in the mail and about 15 email greetings.  So I think it is good to have a birthday in Germany once in a while.  I recommend it for those who have birthdays on the weekend.

The Hamburg Huskies - Football?

-Tom's Turn


On the plane trip, following a short leg to Chicago we went on the long leg to London.   I sat next to a German fellow who, it turns out, was from Hamburg.  Or rather he had recently moved to Hamburg from Kiel, as he had switched jobs.  He was the manager and marketing director of the American Football league team Hamburg Huskies.  The team is manned with German players who work during the day and then play American football as a hobby.  The Hamburg Huskies drew 500-600 paying fans each game last season, and this fellow was brought in based on his success at getting over 2,000 fans to the Kiel Blue Devils games last year.  So when you are in Germany and hear somebody mention football, don’t always assume they are talking about soccer.  Okay, you can go ahead and assume 99.9 % of the time, given the ratio of European soccer to American football fans here.  You can check out the Huskies' website a www.goeagles.de/ (they may be getting their mascots a bit mixed up!)

German Fashion

One of the first places I made note of the current fashion here was not in the market place or on the billboards - I always take those as being "idealistic" but not necessarily representative of what most people actually wear- but when I walked into the high school.  Black, everywhere!  It was the first thing I noticed when I stepped into the common area where most of the kids were taking their break - a sea of dark colors.  It wasn't the dark fashions usually associated with more "Goth" clothing in the US, but fashionable and well-kept.

As I began my daily back and forth on the bus and people watching from the bus window, I saw that this fashion trend extended to young and old outside the school.  With the exception of very young children, I would guess that 85% of people are wearing black or gray pants, coats, and/or shoes, 15% wear other dark or drab shades of navy blue, brown, and khaki, and the remaining 5% wear other colors. The same is true for kids' backpacks, except for the early elementary age. The four older members of our family wear coats of red, tan, and royal blue and A's backpack is a bright blue and green plaid.  So, I would say that we stick out around here!

I have noticed that shoes for all ages are also primarily dark colors and, as I knew before coming, very rarely do Germans walk about in athletic shoes.  I have seen a number of girls at A's school wearing colorful converse - and a surprising number in high heels!  I have seen, perhaps, one or two boys- at the bus transit center, not the school-wearing overly large athletic shoes with the laces purposely untied.

Most of the color comes from scarves-lots of them-, hats, and other accessories.  I am curious to see if the color will come out more in spring, along with the flowers!

I have only seen about two boys with the crotch of their pants hanging to their knees - again, at the transit center, not the school.  I haven't seen any kids with holes in their knees (glad I weeded out my girls hole-y pants before we left) or otherwise sloppy dress.

One more semi-fashionable note: all of the tykes in strollers are bundled to the teeth.  I feel like a negligent mother as I see these little ones, obviously layered, wearing full snow suits or "foos-saks", foot sacks, which are basically sleeping bags from toe to arm pits, scarves, and hats.  The infants can't even be seen in their buggies under 8 inches of blankets and a zipped or snapped up quilted cradle!  I finally bought a cheap blanket to bundle O in, out of guilt, but most of the time he refuses to be bundled.  I have yet to see a German toddler fussing "I want out!".

A has also made note of the dark fashion, but, fortunately, does not seem concerned with conforming to it my requesting a new wardrobe!

More Bus Tales - March 4

Soon I (we) will get to describing other details of the past week, but since bus adventures are taking up a great deal of time these days, here is the final word on that for the week and leading us into a relatively bus free weekend.

Yesterday (Thursday) was  the first of A's long days at school, from 8 to 3:50.  She has this schedule 2 days each week.  Ironically it was R's only short day, 8 to 12:30.  So, since we have not yet achieved independent riding confidence, the trip home from school involves two round trips for the parents.  Fortunately, Tom is still on a very flexible schedule and could make the late ride to get A, saving me the third round trip of the day and allowing O to take a full nap, finally.

I picked R up as planned from her school - we are meeting just inside the main entrance now, not the classroom door- and headed to the bus stop on the other side of the small shopping center standing between the school and the main street.  As we were waiting, two of her friends emerged from the shopping center with bakery goodies (there is a bakery on every corner!) and they happily joined us for the ride to the ZOB (Transit center and Train station).  This was the first time R had been able to ride with friends!

As we were waiting, I was showing the map I had been carrying around and showed them where we lived and then asked where they live.  For kids who are pretty transit-savy, I was surprised that they couldn't find it on the map.  Then they asked, in their broken English, if they could come over.  Today? I asked. Yes, they wanted to come today.  It was pretty forward, I thought, but I had been warned by my German instructor in the US to be prepared for people to just drop in for a visit.  I asked if they should call their mother, and they smiled and said yes, but didn't make a move to do so.  The bus came and the three girls sat happily together to the ZOB.

At the ZOB, one of the girls asked which was our neighborhood stop and when they should come over.  I was confused now, thinking they had intended to come directly with us.  Did they mean how long could they stay?  No, what time should they come.  Oh. Well, 2:00.  Then they scurried off to catch their other bus.

I had no idea what to expect after that.  Would they call? They had our mobile number but we didn't have theirs.  What time would they come?  Would I be getting a call from their parents?

Around 2:00 I sent Rosemary down to the bus stop (about 2 blocks away) to see if they were arriving.  5 minutes later she showed up with out them.  A few minutes later the door bell rang and there they were!  Knowing only our street name and the nearest bus stop, two girls R's age managed to find us on their own!  Talk about independence!

So, the girls spent about 1 and a half hours locked up in R's room, lots of giggling coming from behind the door.  So happy for Rosemary!  Just as abruptly as they came, without any prompting from me, they knew exactly when they needed to be on their way to the bus.  As they were pulling on boots and coats, I asked if they would be able to ride with R as far as the ZOB on Friday.  One of the girls said that she could.  Yay!  One less bus ride for me and a bit closer to the goal of independence for the girls.

The next day.....

Schedules were reversed for the girls Friday, with A coming home early enough that I could leave her with O napping and make a "quick" trip to the ZOB and back.  I arrived at my first bus stop in plenty of time.  So much so that I was caught daydreaming and startled to look up and see the bus approaching, I looked down at my purse to take out my pass, but when I looked up again, the bus spend past!  I suddenly learned a lesson n bus stop procedure.  Never look down or away as the bus is approaching, otherwise the bus driver takes it as a signal you are not waiting for that particular bus!

The next bus was coming in 20 minutes, cutting awfully close to R's arrival at the ZOB and I was worried she would panic if she didn't see me when she arrived.  I decided to hustle to the next nearest bus stop, on a main street where several buses stop on their way to the ZOB, including mine.  Surely I could catch another.  Ten minutes later, I reached the stop, only to find the other buses either didn't arrive any earlier or not at all that time of day.  Well, I would just have to be late and hope R didn't panic.

All the way I sent telepathic messages for R to "stay put".  I was not so much worried about her safety and felt she had enough practice with the bus route to know which bus to take and where to get off, but I was concerned about how to find her if she wasn't at the ZOB - would she be still at the school, headed home on her own, or perhaps gone home with her friend who thought that was what I had been asking. Unfortunately, we still have only one mobile phone and I had left it at the house with A to be able to call Tom. I was wishing I had sent a message to school to make sure the English teacher could reinforce the plan: bring her to the ZOB and wait.

When I got to the ZOB, she wasn't there.  Managing to keep calm, I checked the bakery while I waited for the next bus to arrive.  When she wasn't on the next bus, I decided to head to the school.  No one was at the school except the custodian.  I managed to communicate that I was looking for the school office and she said everyone was gone.  I asked a passing teacher, who claimed not to speak English but sounded like she knew more than she let on.  She and the custodian had quiet a discussion, then she wished me luck as the custodian wisked me around the school looking for someone to speak English.  As we found no one, I tried to tell her what I needed was someone with a phone, so I could call home to see if she was there (I left our only cell phone at home with Amelia and Oskar).  She seemed to understand, continued to search the building, and then, after I mentioned the need of a phone again, she reluctantly pulled one out of her pocket!  I handed her the number, written on a paper, to let her dial the ten digits herself.

A answered with a tone that I knew meant she knew why I was calling.  Yes, R had come home on her own, in tears.  Whew!  I told the custodian this - in pantomime- to the custodian and rushed off to take the two buses home again.

I expected R to still be upset when I got home, but she seemed quite happy, even pleased with herself.  When I asked her side of the story, she said that she had arrived at the ZOB, hadn't seen me and panicked, taking the first bus for our route.  She said on the way home she began to imagine that I had actually been testing her to see what she would do - I'd never do that, I assured her!  The tears came after she got to our door and began ringing the bell repeatedly.  A, thinking R was goofing around (and with me), ignored the bell.  R tried the gate to the back door, found it locked, and tried the door bell again.  A finally answered, ready to tell her off.

After going over the new "rules" for what to do in similar and other bus-related situations (first choice, stay put, second choice, go home or somewhere you know is safe and someone would think to look for you), I asked if she would like to continue to come home on her own, and she agreed that she was ready!  My brave girl!

Bus Success!

This morning was the trial run.  We were ALL up earlier than we are accustomed to normally.  Well, I am usually up this early, but not used to having to be "on" until I have had an hour or so to drink my coffee and scope out the game plan for the day.

We had to be leaving the house by 7:15.  All of us!  Tom had his first appearance at the University scheduled for 8:30, so was only walking us to the bus stop and taking the picture.  I was feeling a little anxious about how I was going to manage to not only escort A and R onto the bus, but ask the driver for an all-day ticket for me (at the front of the bus) and get O with the stroller onto the back door of the bus.  We ended up having A flash her student pass to the driver then run to the back to take the stroller from Tom while I decided to just take a single fare.  I was supposed to place the money on the top plate of the money box (I assume so the driver could see the money), but in my nervousness, I dropped it into the first slot I saw.  With a grumble, he had to open the box and retrieve the money and then give me the change.  Ooops!

Fortunately, the rest of the ride to the train station/ bus transfer center and then the second bus went much smoother!  We delivered A to the school office of her campus, where she was met by one of the teachers and escorted to her first class.  A hasty good-bye and then the sub-headmaster, Herr Surr, escorted us by foot to R's campus and classroom.  We met Herr Surr yesterday with R.  He speaks English fairly well - much better than my German-but apologizes for it.  Once we had delivered R to her classroom, Herr Surr was kind enough to wait for the bus with us and ask for the all-day pass.

At 9:00 am I was once again standing back in the kitchen of our house, breathing a sigh of relief and feeling as if I had finished a Survivor: Germany challenge!  Whew!  Now for the return trip:  I need to be leaving the house once again at 11:55 to retrieve A at 12:30 and then R at 1:30.  Somehow I need to fit in lunch and a nap for O!