Five Years After

Of course, I was eager to return to Mainz and Germany. Problem was, I had no money for such travel. After my senior year, I made a trip out to see a friend's cousin and have a look at Seattle. I was astounded how green the Northwest is. I think my flight was something like $300. In today's greenbacks, that's over $800. So a plane ride to Germany seemed unreachable at the time. 

My plan was to make a trip to Germany and also to get a month Eurail Pass and see as much of Europe as I could afford. Let's face it, you dream pretty big when you're 20. A place few Westerners had ever heard of, Chernobyl, had a different plan. In late April of 1986, a little over a month before I hoped to travel, the nuclear plant there had a catastrophic fire and release of radioactivity. For that reason, my mother asked me to postpone my trip. Grudgingly, I agreed.

By May of 1987, I had enough credits to graduate with my B.A. in history. I booked a flight for the same day as the graduation ceremony. That way I wouldn't have to attend, since few of my friends were graduating at that time. My Iceland Air trip took me to Frankfurt and from there I headed straight to Mainz to stay with Rudiger's family once again. I planned two weeks with them, four weeks on trains, moving around the continent as I pleased, and a final week in Mainz before returning home. 

One of the first things I found out is that it's not nearly as fun being in place when a dozen + of your high school friends are not also around. Rita, R's mother, complained that I "went out too much." Well, yeah! I was there to see the city once again. Fortunately, Rudiger, who was at the University of Mainz at the time, was involved with an economic's organization, although I can no longer find evidence of its existence. The reason that was good is that I tagged along to an overnight gathering in Nuremberg. It was held at an old castle, and the students sat out in the summer evening drinking beer and wine and having a good time. That evening was a highlight.

I did manage to see Funda, who was with a guy, although I don't recall his name. We met for a tea and again for lunch in Wiesbaden. One day she arranged for her boyfriend to take me to Frankfurt to see the famed museum area. We had a good time. I also remember sitting out with him, Rudiger and some of their friends in an area near the university, drinking beer and swapping tales. That was also a good night.

After Mainz, I made a whirlwind trip through Munich, Salzburg, Innsbruck, Vienna, Verona, Italy, Florence, Mantua, Milan, Bern, Switzerland, Zurich, Freiburg, Cologne, and back to Mainz. I did so in the company of various people I met along the way. Some from the States, but also Canadians, Australians, Finns, and others I have likely forgotten. We stayed in both crowded and sparsely visited hostels and inns. 

After that trip, I mostly haven't had any contact with that group of Germans at all. It would be great to see them all, or some of them, but how do you find them? I did ask Claudia and Thorsten to have go at it, but I think they don't really know how.

Funda's boyfriend, Funda, and Rudiger, May of 1987.

I lied. I have to do one more post about our Exchange reunions. Next time.

Home and Aftermath

 This is what my bedroom desk looked like after I arrived home. 

I don't really recall, but I imagine I was pretty down after coming back home. Obviously if I'm taking the time to write about it 40 years later, it made a huge impact. My mom decided it was about the girl, Funda. Sure, that was a big deal at almost 17. Really, though, it was the totality of the experience. So much had been new, breathtaking and perspective-shifting.

Did the U.S. students get together again? I think a few of us gathered to look at one another's photos. Again, I don't remember too much about that. It was July, and my dad put me to work painting the two-story family home. Uncle Walt brought in a scaffold, I put my stereo speaker in the sill of my bedroom window and I went to work scraping and painting for an hourly wage. I do remember mailing a photo of me painting the west side of our house, on a ladder, to Funda with one of my airmail letters. 

In late August I turned 17, since back then school start cutoffs had been December 1st, rather than the now more common September 1. A few friends were younger than me, but not too many. Generally, senior year was not nearly as enjoyable as junior year had been. Spring semester was somewhat of a waste of time, as many of us had been accepted to colleges, yet had to finish classes that weren't technically required for graduation. My grades nosedived.

What Germany had really done is to plant the travel bug in me. Fortunately, Lisa and I see eye-to-eye on the idea of spending money on travel. Since we've been married, we have traveled to Spain, Croatia, London and Paris, Ireland, Italy, and the Dominican Republic internationally. We also took the time and money to visit three Utah national parks, took trips to Seattle, San Diego, LA and more recently San Francisco/Berkeley and Yosemite. We did make a visit to Texas when Lisa was pregnant with Anna, which she would prefer to forget because of nausea. Toss in there trips to North Carolina and Florida, and in 2019 a trip around Lake Michigan to see the Michigan beaches. We have certainly put on some miles.

There was an excellent group of travel essays in the New York Times Style Magazine. Normally I don't bother to read much in that supplement, but last week it was good, especially the essay by the transgender man who revisited the Grand Canyon with his mother's ashes. https://www.nytimes.com/2022/05/12/t-magazine/grand-canyon-travel-arizona.html

Revisiting my trip from forty years ago is far less dramatic, and I can't write anywhere near as well as that guy, of course. The themes, however, of what has changed and the transformation that we undergo as we age and explore our real selves. That's universal, if we can in fact be as vulnerable and honest as that author. Certainly my knees and my shoulders (lately) can attest to the fact that I'm no longer a 16 year old. Yes, I have different interests and I no longer wish I could become Mick Jagger, although his knees seem to be holding up rather well. Have the fundamentals of my personality changed? No, not really. Hopefully I'm not as selfish and, occasionally, rude and childish like back then. Both marriage and being a parent transforms us, most often, for the better and with good reason. I will find when I land in Berlin that I remember even less German than I did on my last visit twenty years ago. 

That said, I hope I can appreciate the journey more this go-around. We're lucky to go anywhere after the past two years of COVID. Speaking of that, Lisa is very concerned that we travel and remain COVID free, which will require more discipline than a normal trip abroad would. 

Before I wrap this Blog up, I do want to say a few things about my visit to Mainz five years after our exchange. That can be my last post. 

Saying Goodbye

I suspect it might be difficult for my daughter to understand, but saying goodbye in the early 1980s was quite different than a farewell in the 2020s. Obviously there was no public internet available, but also remember how expensive long distance calling was then. The long distance telephone company battles had yet to begin. Remember in the few years after that had begun, when you would 'enter a contest' that was actually a form to switch your long distance carrier? I was burned by that once. Anyway, it would be hard to keep contact with German friends via telephone. My parents thought it was pricey to call Germany from the States. It was even more expensive for Germans to phone us.

Other than Lindy, I don't know which exchange friends kept contact after we left Germany. 

Before that, though, I remember a goodbye in Mainz at the Hauptbahnhof. A few of the exchange students took the ride with us to Frankfurt, including Funda. Here's a photo of Ann horsing around with Funda at the Frankfurt Flughafen. These two made a sweet connection with one another.

Funda tripping up Ann. 

I remember Andres, Chris's exchange partner telling me that after we leave, "I think it will be boring in Mainz." While I'm sure things slowed down socially among those classmates - and, by the way, did they ever gather again following our departure? Which ones kept in contact, I wonder? Did any? - I imagine the parents and the other family members could breathe a sigh of relief. As a middle-aged guy, I know that although it's fun to have guests, it also can be exhausting after a while. Imagine have a teenager(s), and then getting one more for a month. That's a lot of angst for one household.

I do remember saying goodbye to Funda and, after walking towards our flight, crying for a moment. 

I wrote Rudiger at least a few letters, and I remember sending postcards to the Besch family. I don't remember much correspondence in return. Funda and I kept up correspondence until sometime during my freshman year in college, which would have been either late 1983 or early 1984. At the time I was still taking German classes at UW-Madison, so drafting simple letters in German wasn't too difficult. When I took a German literature class and I was always a chapter behind as I struggled mightily with the vocabulary, I decided my study of German had to come to an end. It was frustrating, plowing through my Langenscheidt's dictionary every evening while reading Der geteilte Himmel (the Divided Sky). I couldn't figure out what was going on in the story. 

This was a difficult goodbye for a few reasons. For one, we had become close with our German hosts. For many of us, the novelty of German life was also something we weren't eager to let go of so soon. It also should have been clear at the time, but we were probably more focused on Germany and our new friends, but we would soon miss hanging out with the other American students so much. Remember, we had German class in common with our American classmates, but beyond the exchange, most of us wouldn't normally hang out together. Sure, I was already friends with Peter, Clint and Chris. Sure, I would seen John and Dave and Kathy G. at parties. Ann had her swimming friends, while Mike and Liz would go back to East. Besides Mike, I never saw the East High students again. Lindy would be back among her choir friends and Diana and Barb had their posse. Anyway, we wouldn't have a reason to all hang out together again, so that, too, was a loss.

Here's another photo from departure day:

Peter (giving his Joey Ramone face), (exchange partner) Michael, Dave and John. 

Final Potluck

 I have no idea if potlucks are a thing there. It seems there isn't a German term for it, so probably not. I wonder how it was explained to the German families if that is the case.

 Anyway, I don't recall an arrival potluck, as we had in the U.S., however we did have a large gathering to say goodbye in the school's gym. Besides food, we had prepared a skit in German. Bergren wanted me for the lead, the kid that was 'bad', but only unintentionally. My character's name might have been Willy? It depended on some word play, using the term 'Esel', which is jackass. I remember Peter was the Esel. I think we were throwing rocks at it, which is pretty terrible, in hindsight. The teacher (Chris Bradle) became confused as to who we were calling an 'Esel'. I remember he was supposed to hit me upside the head a few times, and his blows were a little too 'method'. There might have been some suppressed anger coming from somewhere in Chris. Maybe I kept him waiting too long in the mornings when he pulled up to give me a ride to school?

That part of the 'program' went off pretty well. We got some intended laughs. There was a joke about the German soccer legend, Franz Beckenbauer. All good. 

We had been discussing what to do about a song. Both Peter and I played guitar, so we talked about accompanying the class to some song or another. One song that was big at the time and that the German students liked was the Styx 'weeper', "Babe". Back then, we couldn't find chords to a song online, and I didn't have the ear to pick up chords the same way I would later. Someone had the cringe-worthy idea to just sing along to a recording of the song. That view ultimately won out. I was mortified to have to stand up in front of 85 people and sing "Babe" to a bunch of Germans as the record played. If I had been cool, it would have totally ruined my reputation.

From our skit: A little eerie how the parts were most male. From left, John Fredrickson's arm, Dave D., me, Clint Miller's arm and leg, and Mike N.

Besides the singing and the skit, I don't recall much else from that night, so here is one more photo from that final potluck:

Left to right, kneeling: Diana, Barb, Stacy, Ann, me, ?, Tami, Brenda. Row 2, Brian, Kathy, Liz, Karen, Mike, Kathy, Lisa, Clint, Ann. Row 3: John, Peter, Dave, Chris, Lindy, and Curt.

 

Johannisfest or Johannisnacht

 Our time in Mainz (did I say this already?) was a bit anti-climactic after Berlin and, for me, after my infection. We did a few other things that I remember, but I'm not sure in which order. We went to a Crackers show...somewhere. Wiesbaden? I remember we took a train to get there. I didn't know where we were going. It was a very fun show. Just recently I found the CD on Amazon, and I see they're playing a show next Month in Wiesbaden, however we will be elsewhere in Germany at that point. 

Note the guitar body is in the shape of the former West Germany. 

The other highlight was our night at the Johannisfest or Nacht or something like that. There was much confusion about what the evening is/was called and just which 'Johannis' they were celebrating. Some of us understandably decided it must be in honor of Johannis Gutenberg, who perfected movable type in the process of printing. Since we didn't have the internet then, we couldn't Google it to learn that it's held on the feast of St. John, but that it also commemorates Gutenberg. Hell, I'm still confused. Anyway, I remember riding a ride or two, some beer (I still have the mug from the evening), and maybe some food? That part is fuzzy, probably because of the beer.

Diana, Rudiger's head, Andres, Michael (peeking through) and Ann.

Streets of Mainz during Johannisnacht, 1982.

It seems to me that we left almost immediately after the festival. We did have another potluck dinner, which I will share some memories next post.