I heard
some of my first German spoke fluently in an every day context as we prepared
to land today. When the pilot switched over to English, his voice took a
decidedly stark jump towards being displeased, as if informing his English passengers
was quite a bother. The flight had gone smoothly and I slept so much I really
didn’t even remember much else about it. Landing in Germany we got through
customs quickly and efficiently, far more so than I have ever entering the US.
I was excited, as always to see what the stamp would look like that they would
give me on my passport. Though I at first was a bit put off by the stamp, one
of the members of my team pointed out how much it made sense. The stamp was a
plain black box with a simple black plane in the corner with the word
Frankfurt. It was simple, minimalistic and efficient. It was so much so that I almost wonder if
there was someone in charge of deciding just how little ink they could get away
with using in their passport stamps.
Our
instructions were simple, stay together and be back at 6:30 to catch the S7
subway back to the airport. I changed in my Dollars for Euros and was decidedly
less excited about getting a smaller number back than one I had given. It was
the first time I have been anywhere that the US dollar was not significantly
stronger. As groups started to filter out in different directions my team
member Matt Logan and I watched many in our group make an unadventurous
decision to go to a Starbucks. That was a decision that didn’t sit well with us
and so started Matt and Dylan’s Frankfurt adventure.
Now, being
a stupid American, (I say this with utmost certainty after some hindsight) my
idea of genuine German cuisine was bratwurst. After refusing to take my money
for giving me a lift to the airport I had promised PA that I would use it to
get the biggest brat Frankfurt had to offer. So we start walking around the
financial district of Frankfurt Germany, an area that was lined with premiere outlet
stores that were selling things like pens for 550 Euros, sunglasses for 400
Euros and suits without price tags – because if you have to ask then you can’t
afford them.
I had been taught by my good friend Aaron Mitchel who was joining
us from ASU Cru that the phrase he remembered in German that would help me was,
“Eik hava hünga” which means “I am hungry” So it was that the phrase I
started going up to shop keepers at various food stands and stores as we walked
was “Eik have hünga bratwurst” There was little chance I was actually pronouncing
this correctly, but, apparently it was just distinguishable enough to help send
us on a gerrymandering path to find bratwurst. Block after block we struck out,
not finding the bratwurst which sounded all the better as our stomachs growled.
Finally at a Turkish restaurant we met a guy our age that spoke English well.
Now comes the part where I’m a stupid American. The man had no problem telling
us where we could go buy some bratwurst at a butcher shop just a little bit
more down the street. But when we explained that we wanted it cooked and served
somewhere so that we could sit down, he explained that that wasn’t possible.
You see, trying to buy a cooked bratwurst near the ritziest part of Frankfurt
is kind of like trying to find someone who will sell you a hotdog at the Taj
Mahal, it just doesn’t really happen. The place is nice and the food is well not.
Unless - he said there was one place a few minutes walk away that sold meat and
also seemed to sell sandwiches and had a chair or two in it, though he said he
had never eaten there. Well we found the storefront and our Turk had indeed
delivered us to the only fresh cooked brats in Frankfurt at a restaurant called
Heinrich Zeiss’. It came served on a kaiser roll loaded with mustard. The footlong’s looks were
deceiving and somehow after we had walked for about two hours around Frankfurt
I was barely able to finish it.
Now
came for the not-so-stupid American part of our adventure. The second I found
out I was going to be in Frankfurt for a day, I had used trip advisor to find attractions
in Frankfurt, and one that was very highly rated was a botanical gardens called
Palmengarten that we could get to by riding the U rail, like pretty much
everything in Frankfurt.
Now
sadly our time was coming to a close, rather abruptly in fact. We left
ourselves with 30 minutes exactly to get to the S7 rail. So our very American
adventure ended just as American as it had began. While running down the street
through the classiest parts of Frankfurt, we ate strawberries Matt had picked
up from a stand on the road uptown near our Turkish friend. I can only imagine
that we looked gloriously non-German and out of place as we tossed down
strawberry caps past men driving cars more expensive than our houses. In great
and dramatic fashion, we arrived at the S7 rail platform sweaty and gasping for
breath. So we had made a bet with time and won – while no doubt doing it with a
distinctly American flair. We got on the train, saying nothing of how close we
had come.
Please pray that:
I would get to know members of my
team today like I did with Matt today.
We would be safe while traveling.
The people in Germany who do not know
Christ.
our team would bond.
God bless and all the best,
Dylan Rollins
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