Gruesse aus Bremen!

*** I need to say that I actually posted this on November 2nd, not October 23rd. I started writing the post on that day and wasn't able to finish, so I saved it to finish later. It now won't let me change the date. So, here's my correction. :-) ***

Yes, I'm still alive. :-) I'm in Bremen, and I really meant to post before now, but things have been a bit crazy as I've been adjusting to living here and dealing with all the frustrations that come with that.

Mom, Dad, and Amanda went with me to the airport in Cincinnati on October 19th. We had lunch together in the airport after I checked in, and the farewell went smoothly...until I had to enter the line at security. That's when the tears came. For all four of us. I finally waved goodbye, walked away, and was trying to compose myself when the woman checking my passport and boarding pass asked if I was under age 18. I just looked at her and finally said, "No. I'm 24." Her eyebrows went up in surprise and then she said, "That's okay. People usually think I'm younger than I am, too."

The trip itself was fairly uneventful, though it took 19 hours. I had a 3-hour layover in the Amsterdam airport, which was interesting. We went through Amsterdam both to and from Bremen for the 6-week campaign 3 years ago, and those are the only times I've been there. I was with my group then, and Chuck led us through the airport, so this trip was a new adventure for me because I had to navigate the airport alone. It was the first time I've had to change planes outside the U.S. by myself. Schipol Airport is well-arranged, so it's not difficult to find your way around; what was hard was being there alone. I looked around at one point and felt very, very small. I'm convinced that airport is larger than some towns. When you add in the fact that the people inside the airport literally are from all over the world and are speaking every language from Dutch and German to Russian and Turkish, you quickly realize how relatively small and insignificant you are, at least in the world's eyes.

I finally landed in Bremen on Friday, October 20th. I followed the crowd into the airport to baggage claim and saw Mark and Karen Abercrombie and several people from the church waiting for me...on the other side of a glass wall. I quickly realized I was going to have to get my bags off the belt and get them outside by myself because only passengers were allowed in the baggage claim area, and I already was carrying my backpack, a carry-on suitcase, and my coat. Finally I saw that other people had luggage carts, so I found one of those and waited for my bags. Just as I was beginning to worry that they had been lost somewhere along the trip, both of my suitcases appeared. Now, you have to realize that my bags were bulky and weighed 65 and 66 pounds, and I am only 5' 4'' and not the world's strongest person. I somehow managed to wrangle my suitcases onto the cart and make my way out the door to be greeted by Mark's video camera. He apparently wanted to capture the entire event for posterity's sake. He also laughed at the spectacle I made of myself as I maneuvered my bags off the conveyer belt. By that point I was so tired I didn't have a comeback. The Abercrombies, Stefanie, Wolfgang and Helga, Ingrid, and I went back to Ingrid's apartment (where we had planned for me to stay) and had a good time visiting over cake and coffee. It was a nice end to all of my travel time.

Thus began my time in Germany. The days (almost weeks!) since then have been one learning experience after another. One might think that grocery shopping in Germany would be fairly similar to grocery shopping in the U.S., but think again. Some bottles require you to pay a Pfand (a security fee) when you purchase them, and if you return the bottles to the store after you've used whatever was inside them you get your money back. And buying produce is an adventure all on its own. When you decide to buy fresh fruits or veggies, you have to place them in a bag and weigh them on a special scale; push a button with a number that corresponds to the one printed on the shelf where you found the food; and put a label that prints from the scale on the bag containing your produce. Mark and Karen have said that if you don't do this (as they did when they first arrived) the cashier will become very irate, get up from her chair, and run through the store to do for you what you should have done for yourself. Whew.

I have also learned which bus passes to buy and when I need to buy them. A bus pass here is also good for the street cars, and since I obviously don't have a car and need to depend on public transportation, the busses and street cars have become my greatest resource. I've become very familiar with several of the routes and have finally mastered the art of reading the schedules, which at first glance look like one big jumble of numbers. Yesterday Karen told me that on the web page for the BSAG you can enter your points of origin and destination and the date and time you wish to travel, and it will tell you which route to take and which stops are closest for you. I think I have discovered a new friend!

Jim and Elsa returned to Bremen from Chemnitz on Saturday, Oct. 21st, the day after I arrived, but at church the next day is the only time I've spoken with them so far because they were preparing to leave for the U.S. on Tuesday the 24th. We ate lunch together with some other people after church, and Elsa reminded me of my "mission" while they're gone: I must practice my German and get to know the Christians in the congregation here. While every day has been full of opportunities to practice the language, I have found it difficult so far to get to know people outside of church services since I'm living with Ingrid right now. I can't really invite people to Ingrid's home, and I'm uncomfortable inviting myself to other peoples' homes. So, I've added a task to my agenda: I have to find my own apartment. Elsa thought I could wait to do this until after they return from the States in a few weeks, but I feel a need to get settled somewhere. After moving out of my apartment in June, house-sitting for the rest of the summer, and staying with my parents for several weeks, I'm feeling a bit homeless. I really need a space to call my own where I can put my things away.

So, I've begun yet another learning experience. Finding an apartment here is nothing like finding one in the U.S. The only place you can really find apartments for rent is in the newspaper, so Ingrid and others have been bringing me the Immobilienmarkt pages from the Wednesday and Saturday papers. Looking through the offers alone was difficult because there are about 30 different abbreviations used to describe the apartments. Some say "2 ZKB" (2 rooms, a kitchen, and a bathroom), while others say they are an "App." (an efficiency apartment). Ingrid was a great help in deciphering both the abbreviations and the meanings of the full words. For example, I did not know what "EBK" stood for, and when I asked Ingrid she said it was an Einbaukueche. My next question was, "What's an Einbaukueche?" When she said it's a built-in kitchen, I knew I had to have one in my apartment. I came to Bremen planning to find a furnished apartment since I'm only planning to stay two years and don't want to have to buy furniture. I have almost given up hope of finding a furnished place because there just aren't that many of them available. So, I've resigned myself to having to get furniture somehow, but I definitely do NOT want to have to buy cabinets and appliances for the kitchen. Yes, that's right. Most apartments here come with only the walls, floors, ceilings, doors, and windows. The wiring and plumbing are there, and the bathroom should have a toilet and a bathtub or shower (though not necessarily a sink), but the kitchen is usually bare. Thus, the lack of an Einbaukueche has become my dealbreaker.

After I looked through the paper and found several prospects, I had to conquer one of my greatest fears: making a phone call in German. Talking in person with someone in a foreign language is difficult enough, but when you can't see their face or read their gestures, it's even more unnerving. I finally had to say to myself, if you want to find an apartment, you have to do this. You can't see a place unless you talk to someone and make an appointment. So, I picked up the phone and dialed numbers, half-praying that no one would answer. Several people have answered, and I looked at one apartment yesterday (Though it's too large for what I need and is therefore too expensive. It also doesn't have an Einbaukueche.), and I have appointments tonight and tomorrow morning to see others. So, I feel like I'm slowly on my way. One foot in front of the other, one step at a time.

Now that this post has surpassed the length which anyone wants to read at one sitting, I'll stop. :-) Thank you all for your emotional, prayer, and financial support. I can't explain how much I appreciate all of you. Now that I've established some sense of a routine here, I will be better about posting and emailing. Also, I'd love to hear from you. I want to be sure to keep up with what's going on in your life.

For now I'll leave you with this picture of the garden behind Ingrid's apartment building. I took the picture from her kitchen window (she lives on the 3rd floor). Gott mit Euch!