On tulips and war

In the 16- and 1700s, eight windmills were built as part of Bremen’s inner fortification wall. The rest of the wall was demolished in 1802, but this mill was left and actually continued functioning until 1950. Since it stands between the main train station and the market area with the cathedral and medieval town hall, the mill is one of Bremen’s tourist attractions. It also happens to be down the street from where my German class meets, so I go past it every time I take the bus to class.

One day last week I happened to notice the beautiful red and yellow tulips at the base of the mill. So, after class, I walked down the street to take a picture of the flowers. As I headed down the path, I watched a woman ride by on her bicycle, stop near the tulips, stoop down and touch the flowers, and then get back on her bike. She rode past me and I noticed two yellow tulips in the basket on her bicycle.

I walked closer to take my picture only to have another woman on a bicycle come up behind me and start complaining about people picking the tulips. “If everyone picks the flowers, we won’t have any more!” she kept saying. She noted that someone had donated the tulip bulbs to the city to be planted by the mill, and it was terrible that people were picking them. I assured her I only wanted to look and agreed that, yes, it was terrible for people to disturb the tulips.

We chatted for a few minutes about the flowers, and the woman, who was probably around 70, complimented me on my German and asked, "Are you from England or Australia?" When I answered that I was from the U.S., she eyed me skeptically and said," Hmmm. I'm a bit sour with the Americans right now." She proceeded to enter into a tirade against President Bush, the war in Iraq, and general U.S. foreign policy. She punctuated her argument with: "America makes the whole world broken. I just hope they don't start something with Iran." She wished me a good day and rode away on her bike.

During this time, all I could think to say was, "Yes, war is terrible for everyone." I'm really not sure how the woman expected me to respond to her rant. As she rode away, I stared after her, not understanding how a conversation about flowers could morph into one about war and politics, and tried to figure out how to react to her statements. How exactly is a person supposed to respond when a person from another culture lambasts her homeland?

I finally came to several realizations:

1. If I don't react and just let the person vent their frustrations, the complaints rest primarily on my country and not on me. The woman didn't once blame me for the actions of the U.S. government. She even smiled at me before leaving. By not countering the argument, I maintain some sort of separation from the target of her frustrations.
2. 1 Peter 2:11. If I'm an alien in this world and my true citizenship is in the Kingdom of God, then it really doesn't matter what anyone says about the United States because it doesn't affect me.
   
3. The German woman could argue her opinions, but she couldn't stop me from enjoying the tulips.
   

And yes, the sky really was that blue. :-)