Chapter 82: In Which Our Adventurer Is Spoiled Rotten

Today is January 5th, and I am presently at the Frankfurt Hahn Airport somewhere supposedly near Frankfurt am Main, Germany. In fact, upon consulting a map, the airport is actually closer to France than it is to Frankfurt. It's a hub for budget airlines. Go figure. At least I have a power outlet and a full season of Babylon 5 to pass the time. (While staying here with Anja, she and I picked up watching Babylon 5, quite a good show the likes of which I couldn't appreciate when it was on the air because well, it was on cable and I was 6 when it began. For how old it is, it's an impressive work of science fiction). I have just concluded my visit to Germany, care of Anja. For those of you who do no know who Anja is, she is my third sister, being that in all but law and blood. I first met her as a German exchange student (her, not me) who came to live with my family when I was twelve. During the year she stayed with us and the subsequent seven, she has become as much a part of our family as anyone else.

Upon my completion of my studies in Montpellier, it had been my intention to spend Christmas and New Years with her, rather than come home or spend it by myself. To say that it has been a compromise on my plans would imply that something was lost. And that I had plans. No, I can say with little hesitation that I can think of no better way to have spent my time at a period that is normally filled with family, tradition and aspects of my life that are as deeply ingrained in me as who I am. Spending Christmas alone, I imagine, is difficult. I am extremely glad that that was not the case with me. Upon arriving in Germany, after the debacle at the Milan airport, I was rather pissed at myself and frustrated on a number of levels. I don't know whether it was karma or something else that I should have received the hospitality I was given. To spend Christmas with ones family is largely something taken for granted. To spend it with someone else's family is both a rare treat and something I consider to be one of the warmest gestures of kindness possible.

(Figure 1: Anja and me)

It began on Christmas Eve - Weinacht, in German - at her father's house in Lutherstadt-Wittenberg. Her father, his wife and two sons put me up for about a week, as well as feeding me, taking me around, and even offering to wake me up so I could better appreciate consciousness. Words don't do it justice. They even got me presents! Which made me feel quite bad, because I had not really gotten anything for them - although in the end Anja dropped me off at the local big box store and I picked up what I could on a few hours notice. For people I'd known for maybe two days, gift giving was rather generic. Details, though. On the 25th, we drove to Saxony to stay with her mother's sister (her 'aunt', you might say) for a few days. Prior to arrival, I merely had the vague notion that I would be "staying with Anja and her family until I left". What I got instead, was a royal treatment. Anja's aunt Elke and her family fed me scrumptiously - lots of chocolate and a full array of German cuisine, and I am a big fan of red cabbage now - as well as showing me around the cities of Meißen and Dresden. When I say showing me around, I mean that Elke had taken it upon herself to see that I received as much of a cultural education about the area as possible. There were tours, sightseeing, this that and the other thing, and I couldn't have asked for better. I am quite lucky.

(Figure 2: The Reichstag)

Dresden is the capital of Saxony and one of the major cities of Germany. Beginning on February 13th, 1945, the Allied Forces began an extensive firebombing campaign of the city that rivaled the destructive force of the bombings of Hiroshima and Nagasaki. Thousands of people were killed and even more were left homeless. Kurt Vonnegut, Jr. experienced the firebombing while a prisoner of war and wrote about it in his novel, Slaughter-House Five, a book which I quite enjoy. In my life, I have seen Hiroshima, the Normandy beaches, and now Dresden - some of the most horrific killing fields the world has ever known. I always feel remorse when I see places like that. I do not like war, and while I will not say it is unnecessary, it is always brutal, and true to the saying, no one wins. I digress. Dresden today is a beautiful city, returned to its baroque-era marvel. When I think of Europe, I imagine places like Dresden. Big, gothic spires, grand houses, and monuments dotting the landscape like trees. Another side note, the Germans have more trees in their cities than the French. I don't know why this is, but I like it. Reminds me of the Twin Cities. My words won't do the place justice, so lucky for you and for me I commandeered Anja's camera. Here are pictures!

(Figure 3: Dresden across the Elbe)

After Dresden, Anja and I returned back to Wittenberg, where her father showed us around the city for a little bit. Both Wittenberg and Dresden are on the Elbe River, which in 2003 experienced a hundred-year flood that caused billions of euros of damage and inundated miles of towns and countryside and generally did what floods do. On our tour, Anja's father pointed out just how much of the area had been flooded. Note the pictures. Lutherstadt Wittenberg is called what it is because it is the home of Martin Luther, the co-founder of the Protestant movement. I got to see the door where he nailed up his 95 theses. Originally, it had been 100, but the nail got in the way. That is why Protestants aren't required to ride ostriches, and why every time a Protestant sings "A Mighty Fortress Is Our God" they no longer have to do the Maccarena to it.

On the 30th, Anja and I headed to Berlin for New Years. Again, I had simply had the vague notion that we were "going to Berlin for New Years", and I would let her take care of the details. Upon reflection, it's quite unusual for my neurotic, plan-obsessed self to leave so much to other people. I've found, traveling around these last five months, that when I go by myself, it's a lot easier. I only lose my things, I only get myself lost, and I only wind myself up in strange and possibly health-diminishing situations. Still, I've enjoyed a bit of company. The greatest challenge for this month alone by myself has been, well, being alone by myself. Not that one can be alone in any other sense. I mean, automatically, the presence of others negates being along, so you... I'm rambling. Then again, I've been rambling since I learned to talk. Probably earlier. We stayed with her friend Ines, whom Anja has met in Ushuaia in Tiera del Fuego, and her boyfriend Andreas. Anja and Ines were talking one night about Ushuaia, and told me that in German they had just called it "the ass of the world". Sometimes I wonder just how much I'm losing in translation. I am also extremely appreciative for Anja acting as my ears, and I can't imagine how much of a bugger it is to have someone latched on who is effectively deaf without you. Thank you for that, Anja. You're a good sport. Ines and Andreas live in Kreuzberg, the largely Turkish area of Berlin, one of those places the anti-Jane Jacobs of the world would call a slum. She and I would both disagree with this assessment, and I found it to be a very neat area. On New Years Eve, they were lighting off fireworks at a rate and in sizes that rivaled those being launched at the Brandenburg Gate. I didn't go down to the huge party there because it was a) a million people strong, and b) cold. Instead, we had a small party at the apartment. It was only mildly different than my usual New Years, the last three of which have been spent in Emilio's basement with all my high school friends. Which, don't get me wrong, is a most excellent time. However, I do that about once a week when I get the chance. Anyways, it's about 2AM, and my flight is at 6:50, and I should get some bit of sleep, so I'll wrap up.

(Figure 4: Me at the Fernsehturm)

Our New Years day was spent playing Wii (tennis really takes it out on your shoulders), which was a lot of fun. I perhaps didn't get to see as many of the big cultural sights of Berlin as I ought to have - no museums, didn't see the Philharmonic which I would've liked to have seen, but I did see a lot of the monuments like the Fernsehturm, the Memorial Church, the Reichstag, and so on. After that, we popped back to Wittenberg, and had a brief trip to Magdeburg so Anja's father could take her shopping (he had deemed the clothes she had got in Berlin unsuitable), and I got to see a bit of that city. In January, not that interesting. But, Elke has given me a standing invitation - almost an order - to come back some summer and she will show me around Saxony some more. Perhaps when I tackle Eastern Europe, a place that is on the roster for later in life. To wrap up, I've had an amazing time here. I was spoiled rotten, so much that I actually feel bad. Few people have ever gotten away with spoiling me, as Grandma Anne, Mom, Dad, and others can attest. The hospitality I have been shown here has left me marked in a way that I cannot easily repay. The kindness that has been done unto me, I shall work henceforth to give back to those who wish it. My next port of call is Lisbon. Upon extensive contemplation, I've decided to scratch Morocco from my voyage - it's just unfeasible to get there and see enough in the time that I have. Another day. After Lisbon comes London, and after a night in Madrid - home.

(Figure 5: Martin Luther's church - Anja and I in the foreground)

And now the daily quote from Ambassador Mollari:

"When I said my quarters were cold, I did not mean "Oh I think it's a little chilly in here. Perhaps I'll throw a blanket on the bed." No, I said it was COLD. As in "Oh look, my left arm has snapped off like an icicle and shattered on the floor."