Meeting the Family: An Outsider's Way In

Decorating the Christmas Tree: Success
(Oldenburg, Germany)

After spending six months in the wonderful land of Germany, I can hardly say that I was prepared, nay equipped, for the Christmas holiday with my German boyfriend's family. Two months of German language lessons twice a week left me struggling to follow the quips, sarcasm and overall flow of conversation that came as soon as the car door opened in Siegen en route to Oldenburg. I felt ready to rip my ear off, dip it in a good beer and toss it to my new "German Family" in hopes that somehow I wouldn't be lost in translation any longer. Many mistaken der, die, and das in between hearty meat, good cake and Christmas beverages later, we were all laughing over a game of billiards (during which I reportedly had become the "profi" professional). Perhaps communication lines are eased when a bit of healthy competition, fun and good beer are thrown into the mix.

When it came to Fooseball (called Kicker in German), my boyfriend would apparently much prefer to work up a sweat and crack the table in half than lose. However, even table soccer needs cheerleaders, so I contributed with some jolly and mispronounced "ja Woll!" "gut gemacht" and "toller Schuss!" (Yes sir, well done and nice shot!)

In Germany: respect the process and theme of
decorating the tree and you just might survive!

It is very important to note, however, that there is a sort of mathematical curve in terms of German language abilities and beer consumption. These two are generally directly related and, as beer levels increase, so do speaking capabilities. This goes for billiards skill in relation to consumption as well. Unfortunately, as goes for the optimum tariff we've been studying in International Economics here in Cologne, there is a maximum level of benefit. After that level (of tariff % or drink consumption) the curve shoots you back to either trade decline or missed shots and misunderstandings. Let's just say that I properly performed my research and graphed this curve unwittingly and much to my own embarrassment. Fortunately, the whole experience became a good laugh for all, we lost at billiards, I made up my own version of what I thought was Deutsch and I was dubbed the "Sweet Girl" for the duration of my stay.  I must say that I'm relieved that that was the name I received after all the hullabaloo, but that might be because I never caught word of any other granted titles.

Though I may have caught my own hair on fire from the candles on the Christmas Tree (O' Tannenbaum!), eaten a pile of pink termed "Heringsalat," and crashed my bike into a

One of the nightly spreads on the dinner table!
(Pork filet wrapped with prosciutto in a cognac-cream sauce
accompanied by baked hash browns and creamed veggies.)

 lamp post amidst the frenzy of dozens of hurried, Christmas-shopping bikers, I learned to adore his German family with their traditions, present opening schedules, and especially palate in terms of what is to follow the hearty call of "GUTEN APPETIT!"

The Newest Adventure: Deutschland

May 21, 2012

Siegen, Germany

Once again, here I find myself in the enchanting land of Europe. I believe that some people would term this repetition as addiction, but I prefer to call it passion. Just over one month ago, I received a final word from the international office in Berlin that I had not made the final cut for the DAAD Study and Internship Program; I was devastated. My world whirled for only a few minutes as I struggled to find my list of plans B through E; I had prepared for this moment just in case but the rejection hit me hard nonetheless. Within an hour, I had filled out an application to Sejong University in Jochiwon, South Korea, created a list of programming ideas to keep me excited for being a Resident Assistant at my own University in case I needed to stay, filled out a budget for a French school in case I could gain acceptance for the fall and had called my mother. I marched into the Center for International Exchange at my home university the very next morning and presented my circumstances to the coordinator. She looked at me confusedly and inquired, “I thought you wanted to go to Germany?” 

Well, that IS what I thought. I wanted to go to Germany because of so many reasons really: I wanted to expand my language repertoire, I wanted to study at one of their top international business schools, I wanted to be back in Europe and I wanted to be near my boyfriend, Björn. We had decided in February of 2012 when he came to sweep me back off my feet that we couldn’t possibly continue living without the other in our lives. Strangely, I had applied to the SIP in Germany before he even came back because I was so taken with the idea of this competitive program and prestigious university in Cologne. Now, here I sat in the international office with love back in my life but no ticket to Germany.

My coordinator pondered for several very long minutes between my anxious eyes and my application and then quickly turned to her computer, murmuring something under her breath. Typing quickly and dragging a file with my name into the attachment box of an email, she smiled, “What if we sent you to Cologne anyway?” Here’s the part where my heart stopped. No, there were no romantic beat-skippings taking place; my heart just took a brief vacation from pumping my blood in order to wander around the room for a minute. “Seriously? Was that ever an option? It’s not on any of the catalogues or website and I talked to everyone in the office and…” She stopped me short. “I know, Bethany. Let’s make an exception.”

I walked out of the study abroad office that day with all of my other applications and plan Bs still in my hand and a soaring heart (it had graciously decided to return to my chest). The University of Northern Colorado had decided to send me to my university of choice as an ambassador and hoped to create a solid exchange program with them following the success of my exchange. There was the possibility of scholarships, I had already filled out my course lists and glanced over living accommodations and area transportation because I had applied to their school through the SIP earlier that month. It was all in place. My family was a bit shocked that everything was happening so quickly and, admittedly, so was I. Björn’s jaw dropped when I told him the news that I would be living in Germany, at a school only 90 minutes from him, for 15 months. We planned to start our time together in June and I would stay with him and his hilarious roommate, Miki, over the summer.

On the 14^th of May, 2012, less than a month later, I was on a morning plane to Deutschland to surprise my adoring boyfriend for his 23^rd birthday. I had coordinated with several of his friends and the surprise went down with few hitches; he was shocked for several hours, kept kissing me and wouldn’t dare let me go. That night, he whispered to me while his arms were lovingly wrapped around me, “Baby, I can’t believe you’re here. Please still be here when I wake up.” 

Now the 21^st of May, I’m still here, completely relaxed, absolutely blessed by the Lord, totally in love and I couldn’t be happier with the way life has changed. I have an extensive list of wonderful things, ancient places and lovely people to visit this summer. Björn will finish his semester in July and then we’ll take a vacation to someplace exotic, romantic and new (maybe Croatia) with my best friend Gena, her Czech boyfriend David and perhaps Miki and his girlfriend as well. I will move to Cologne in August or September and then begin my studies until the end of July 2013. 

This is me. This is my life: always on an adventure.

What's Next: Death Defying Gravity

Thursday, December 01, 2011

Greeley, CO USA

Plunging deep below the 59◦ Fahrenheit waters of Table Rock Lake in Missouri led me to my longest and deepest dive coupled with a face to face conversation with death, Christ and myself. I had the magical experience of seeing my first ship wreck lodged onto some silt covered rocks and bashfully hiding her damaged port side. “Miss Gayly,” as I discovered after some gentle exploration on her hull with a fingertip and a flashlight, had sunken with a hit to the side and the key still in the ignition. No one knows what happened to her passengers, but I felt as if I had my own mystery tale to unravel.

Continuing on, my father and the guide, AJ, and I had difficulties with visibility as we meandered over the cliff edge and dove deeper down into the darkness. Though the sun ruled the surface waters on that breezy but beautiful Wednesday, silt and algae took their claim on the depths. In the 1970s, a city called Oasis, Missouri was evacuated and drowned out by the damming of the river to create a reservoir. To this day the city, several boats and a forest remain untouched and unmoving below the surface as the bottom plunges to roughly 225 feet deep. The forest itself, around 88 feet down and off the edge of a smooth cliff is hauntingly beautiful. Her shadows lie a few feet from each other and unraveled their tales to my doubting eyes slowly as my fins cautiously navigated the water behind me. As I desperately tried to maintain sights on my father swimming in front of me, hold my flashlight in a generally straight manner despite the pesky light refraction underwater, maintain neutral buoyancy, navigate the trees and keep my goggles cleared, a renegade shadow branch grasped my regulator cord and ripped it out of my mouth. In my attempts to regain my mouthpiece, time slowed to a standstill and I floated helplessly in a desperate strain toward oxygen and sight in the blackened, gloom of the forest. I felt as if I was hanging from a limb, weightless, stranded and face to face with Monsieur la Mort, gentleman of the demise. He looked me straight in the eye and asked me one question; “Are you prepared to meet your maker and end this strange adventure you call life here on earth?” Silent, yet still reaching for my lifeline, I felt a gentle and bizarre peace set over my shoulders and slide over my wetsuit until it had engulfed me. “Yes, I am. I am ready to die.” In uttering these words to whomever I was talking to, two things came to me quite suddenly and abrasively.

1.)    I had not said goodbye to my mother.

2.)    I had not told the man I loved that I, indeed, loved him.

I knew full well that my friends and family knew how much I loved them, for I sought to show it and express it as often as possible, yet for some reason I could not shake these two things. Death raised an eyebrow. “So, what’s the conclusion then, darling?” In this moment, I imagined Christ himself handing me my regulator and murmuring gently, “Bethany, I have so many plans for you. I want you to continue to love and continue to learn. Keep swimming.”

Suddenly, as I placed my regulator back into my desperate mouth and cleared it of un-breathable water, time rushed back into place and I could hear the familiar repetition of respiration as my own life bubbles danced in the water above my head. Keep swimming. Keep loving. Keep learning. Those are tasks toward which I can strive. Those are tasks that I can handle. Those are tasks that I adore, in fact.

Though I became lost a time or two after that and I continued to view caves, cracks, cliffs and catfish, this memory haunted my soul. Among the shadows of a forgotten forest, I came face to face with something that used to scare me and realized that I have but two regrets. I saw my mother again, so that was taken care of. As for number 2, I called him a few days later and my heart is still smiling.

Everything

The way we were seemed perfect
Who we were felt right
The future laid so clearly
Then blindsided without a fight.

I understand that you love me
I've shown I love you, too.
So why choose this path that's turning
and pushing me away from you?

No matter what, I told you,
I will stand by your side.
You promised me the world and more
I had your heart and you had mine.

Then comes our anniversary
For me, brings memories and smiles
I had no idea your pain
Was so great with all these miles.

I thought I knew your heart so well
Your very thoughts, they spoke to me
You proved me truly wrong today.
Said that we could no longer be.

My darling, I still love you so.
I'm convinced that you do, too.
Will pushing me away right now
Just reignite the fire in you?

Somehow, I will accept this news,
Though understanding cannot be.
Babe, you weren't my everything,
But you are everything to me.

Culture Shock 2.0

So I unwittingly decided to learn the hard way. Is this a new thing for me? Not really. I tend to do my research before jumping into anything. When I think that I am fully prepared and feeling as adventurous as anyone could be, I leap. However, life seems to think that there are additional lessons to learn that research can't teach me; that includes falling flat on my face sometimes.

Before returning to the US, I had researched my way through culture shock, expatriatism and repatriatism as those sent abroad return to their homeland. My family and few close friends stood by in an accepting and loving welcome, as I had prayed they would be. What I wasn't expecting, however, was for my homeland to not be waiting with open arms. Sure, I knew that my stories wouldn't be received by all with excitement, but rather jealousy and ignorance on a rare occasion, but that is not the hard part. The hard part is flying into a place so familiar but yet so changed. Life went on. It's as if I tripped into a novel halfway through; everyone knows the plot line and details and I am clueless but afraid to let anyone know. I suppose I could take the "fake it 'til you make it" road, but instead I choose the "dive in and become so busy that you don't notice the storyline they're following" road. After a few weeks of being back, however, it seems that I am reading a different book entirely; not only that, but it's written in a different language.

My eyes are different, my processes are different and my heart lies elsewhere.

Don't get me wrong, I beg of you, I really love my country. The United States of America is my home! My family is here, my school is here and my past is here. But is it so strange of me to consider picking up another book in a different land for awhile?

Problem (and answer) number two: I am in love. However, that is not the only reason why my heart is called abroad! I want to broaden my horizons so much so that I can make a valuable impact in my communities; those communities are not just within the boundaries of the wonderful US. I have pushed them to France, Germany, and who knows where else? I want to become knowledgeable in my field and gather experiences from all around the world. Also, I want to follow my heart. I want a family someday and a happy, healthy marriage to be a good example for my family, myself and my kids. I want to be ministering in three languages, cultivating a community and never stop learning. God is the only one who knows where and when I can and will accomplish these things, but He has laid them on my heart and soul and I will follow.

Door after door slammed in my face. After being locked inside that room of confusion and desperation, the windows are being thrown open to let the sunshine in and are beckoning me to climb through. I must confess to you all that one of those windows is painted with black, red and yellow and the other in a patriotic, three-striped, red, white and blue fashion. I don't know if I can crawl through both, but I sure plan on trying.



Culture shock 2.0: My homeland never moves, but I'm evolving.