Potluck

 After we sold stuff and figured out how we were putting up our German students, April rolled around and the German students arrived. The first evening, LaFollette High's cafeteria hosted a welcome potluck. I can't recall very much about it. I'm not a fan of potlucks, generally. I know from photos that both my parents attended. I don't think we performed skits or anything of that nature. I remember the German students receiving American Family hats and t-shirts. Here are a few photos from that evening:

 

The top photo shows all Germans, including (from far left): Susanna, Kerstin, Funda, Birgit, Nicole, Claus and Andrea

The bottom photo shows mostly Americans, except Michael (far left), Peter, Clint and Chris. Over Peter's shoulder you can see Nicole looking at her Am Fam winter hat.

After the potluck, a few of us went first to Bridgeman's Ice Cream. 

From left: Ann, Funda and Rudiger, my exchange partner.

In addition to the above, Peter and his exchange partner Michael came along. I know that because after Bridgeman's we went to Peter's house to hang out in his finished basement and listen to Pink Floyd, which is what is happening here:

From left: Funda looking at the album cover for Pink Floyd's Ummagumma, Rudiger and Michael.

Most of the time with the Germans in the States is a blur of pizza-based gatherings (always Little Caesar pizza, because it was relatively cheap), a few day trips and a lot of time spent away from home. 

I remember Rudiger unpacked and set up an entire dresser drawer filled with candy. From what I recall, he took one shower in four weeks. He also devoured everything in sight, which was a thrill for my mother. She was not the best cook, so seeing someone so enthusiastic for her food was relief, I think. 

There were a few communication problems. For one, it was unclear the extent to which my exchange partner was interested in religion. He noted Catholic on his information sheet. I was not at all interested in going to mass, but I brought it up to him to be respectful. Since it was April, we attended Palm Sunday service together. Before Easter arrived, however, we figured out that neither of us were very passionate about attending mass.

Early on during their stay there was a spring dance at school. All the Germans attended and, I'm pretty sure, all or most of the American students. I remember at one point one of the basketball players, Steve Amundson, trying to talk to Funda. I offered to help. Steve said he wanted to dance with her. Funda explained that she only wanted to dance with me. That began months of rushing teenage emotions, longing, letter-writing and a few overseas phone calls.