Never in my life has it taken that long to get some place and then less than half the time to get back afterwards. Said another way, everything she said about what it would look like on my way there and where I should turn or not turn made perfect sense only after I had gotten there and done it all wrong. I don’t want to turn this into some great philosophical lesson or anything, so I will just leave it at that.
Except to say that thusly, my ten minute bike ride to find the fellow who was going to give me a 20 minute therapeutic massage here in Wiesbaden turned into something more like a 45 minute bike riding nightmare followed by 15 minutes of bliss. Both of these were strictly from my perspective, of course. For the therapist, it was 15 minutes or so of comments such as “Frau Kraft, relax, Frau Kraft, you should see a therapist, Frau Kraft, this is a very hard knot.” Followed by his giving up his lunch break the next day to see me for two 20 minute sessions back to back. Nice guy. I am sure he thought he could get that sucker of a knot if he just had more time. And my neck too, jeez louise, or however one says THAT in German.
The bike ride was nice enough on the way back and quite a surprise really to be able to go so much faster than normal, and all under my own control. I had forgotten that there was something between walking under my own control and all those things that aren’t, but which move much faster: trains, planes and automobiles/buses. I like this nice middle ground of movement called a bicycle. Sure, it was cold, and partially wet, the rain having come in the morning, but to actually ride a bicycle where there are bike lanes and no thorns or glass on the street is something pretty cool. It will also be much shorter tomorrow, when I know where I am going. It is too bad I have decided I need to buy myself a vacuum cleaner or I would buy a bicycle back in Botsland. Can’t afford both, but am tired of the dirt and cat hair, so such is life.
I really have to stop carrying the world on my neck and shoulders though, and as soon as I carry half of it in my luggage back to Botswana I plan to stop doing just that, starting with NOT carrying my notebook every day to work. And maybe even some days I won’t even carry myself to work. So there.
After the massage, I went back home and changed clothes so I could head to Wiesbaden proper for a Rotary meeting. The club I had made contact with here, Wiesbaden Rheingau, was meeting at 1 p.m. and they had invited me to attend their meeting. I had met many of them Sunday afternoon at a small church near where I am staying at Hartmut’s in the part of Wiesbaden on the water (let’s just forget to mention which river anymore). There, they had a nice holiday performance by a boys’ choir, with readings about the holiday season, followed by cake and coffee.
After the performance, I learned just how much cake and coffee I needed to eat in order to feel totally ill and go to bed with my eyes wide open. I won’t tell you, because everyone should find that out for themselves, but let’s just say it helped me to take “eating too much cake in Germany” off my list of things I still had to do. It also led to a dream where I drove a car in the snow without a steering wheel along Highway 101 near Garberville, where everyone spoke something between German and English and were all quite happy and without worries once the car stopped and they could eat cake. Like I said, I ate a lot of cake.
Monday though, after my massage and my extenuated bike ride, I was feeling a bit better and so could then eat lunch with my Rotarian brethren. I was the only woman in the room. There are four clubs in Wiesbaden and two have more women. I think this club might have one or two (or not) but they weren’t in attendance. They meet at probably the best hotel in Wiesbaden with the best restaurant in Wiesbaden no doubt as well. We were elegantly served roasted duck, red cabbage and a potato dumpling, followed by a nice little dessert. I ordered a small glass of beer and some water. He brought me the glass of beer with some water in it. He must have thought there was something wrong with me, just like I thought there was something wrong with him when he explained what he had done. Every time I think I can speak German, I find out otherwise. He took it away saying it would not taste that good and brought me a beer and a bottle of water and we were both relieved. I am pretty sure I asked for them separately the first time, but then obviously not.
The club enjoyed hearing briefly about how I came to be in Botswana from California and how I came to speak German, which THEY all thought I spoke exceptionally well. A couple of them figured I must have a German husband to speak so well, to which I replied, “not yet.” They joked about flipping a coin, but that never really went anywhere. They were all very welcoming and kind and we exchanged flags – I gave them one from Arcata Sunrise and they gave me one from their club – and we took a photo. When I had earlier emailed the president that I had a flag to give them, I accidentally said pfanne (which is a frying pan, I believe) instead of Pfahne (which I THINK is a flag). He thought it was cute. What can I say?
They were a bit surprised that Arcata met so early in the morning – after all what kind of proper German club could ever imagine meeting at a time when one couldn’t really order a beer with one’s meal? They already know Americans do things a bit differently, so I wasn’t kicked out right then and there, especially since I did order a beer. Overall, I enjoyed myself and the chance to meet Rotarians and learn about their projects. They are a bit more formal here they we are at home, so it always took me a second to figure out who they were talking to when they said "Frau Kraft" especially since I knew my mother was nowhere nearby. A good time.
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