12 December: Our Dog of Deutschland & More Moving Chores

I had to get up ridiculously early to eat breakfast with John and then drive him to work. We had already put Cody’s crate in the back of the car (it barely fit, lying on its side), so I just had to come back to the hotel to pick up Cody and then headed off to the Tierhotel. We arrived around 10:15 and of course everyone was as happy to see Cody as he was to see them. Little does he know that this will be his last romp in the moat at Schloss Unterriexingen! A nice young woman came out with a cart to help me bring in the dog crate and I also donated Scotty’s scratching post to their cat room. I had a nice chat with Herr Ratibor, reviewed all of the instructions for Cody’s delivery to the shippers, and suggested to him that they build a satellite dog castle in Michigan. He wished us well on our journey back to the States. I gave Cody a big hug and a kiss; this would be the last time I’d see my dog of Deutschland. Next time I see him, we will be in Michigan, meeting Cody at the Detroit airport.

On my way back to Stuttgart I decided to stop and do something I’ve been meaning to do for ages: have a look around the town of Markgröningen, not far from the Tierhotel. I had heard it had a nice main square and some lovely half-timbered houses, and indeed it does, including a rather impressive Rathaus. I parked the car outside the town walls and took a short stroll around; the town was quiet and some people gave me odd looks as I took a few pictures.

Next I stopped at Shannon’s in Feuerbach to give her Beth’s almost-complete memory book. Shannon will have to put the finishing touches on it and give it to Beth later. We chatted for a bit and then I set out for Beth’s; she called me en route and was just leaving the doctor’s office, so I actually got to her apartment before she did. I showed her my latest ultrasound photo, which actually looks vaguely humanoid – all 19 mm of it! We made brownies for John’s last day at work (or rather I watched while Beth made brownies), drank pink grapefruit tea, and I showed her how to make perl stitches and bind off her knitting, then got her started on her first scarf. The brownies came out of the oven and we rewarded our hard work with a couple, still gooey and warm.

Sometime during my travels today I received a message on my cell phone from the lady whose car I had hit over the weekend. I called her back while I was at Beth’s (just in case I needed a back-up German speaker) and tried to explain to her what had happened. She just wanted my insurance information, which I didn’t have handy since the car was five flights of stairs away. I told her the car was insured through Daimler and that I would call her back later with the information.

I had to leave at 5:30 to get back to Botnang because I was now supposed to meet the rug buyer at the house at 6:00. Dorota F. (the woman who bought my smart wheels) had called while I was at Beth’s to say that her mother had been in a car accident and she wouldn’t be able to come this evening to pick up her things (she was buying a lamp and a small crate); we arranged for her to come tomorrow at noon during our apartment handover instead. The carpet buyer never showed up and I never heard another word from them, which left me feeling rather peeved! I also left two messages for the girl who was buying my large dresser, telling her that this was her last chance to pick it up, and I never heard from her either. Suffice it to say that I was getting really frustrated trying to get rid of these last few items!

John had gone go-karting this evening with some guys from work and was supposed to get a ride home with Jürgen; when he finished he called and I was still at the house, doing some last-minute cleaning. I was in a bit of a panic about the dresser and the rug, so I went next door because Frau Dörr had mentioned something about her painter taking an interest in a few of our things. I interrupted the Dörrs having a traditional dinner of cold meats, cheese, and bread in their cramped little kitchen with the tinkle of classical music coming from an antiquated radio sitting on a shelf. I explained the whole situation and Frau Dörr agreed to call the painter for me. I offered him the rug, dresser, and our two ceiling fans for 50 Euro. He took them of course (who could say no to a deal like that?), to my infinite relief. Frau Dörr offered me a couple of her freshly-baked Christmas cookies and Herr Dörr fixed me a slice of bread and ham, and they insisted that I sit down with them until John arrived. We returned to SI-Suites and had a late dinner at the Irish pub there, which has a pretty darn good hamburger by European standards.

9 December: No More Wardrobe & A Minor Incident

After breakfast at SI-Suites, we left Cody and Scotty at the hotel again and headed over to the house to complete the move-out. There’s nothing quite like the hollow echo of an empty house. Our place looks a lot bigger without any furniture in it. A guy named Dieter arrived at 10 am sharp to pick up the wardrobe. He came well-prepared with a battered leather toolbag and a large (by European standards) van. He was surprised at the excellent condition of the wardrobe and pleased that we helped him take it apart and carry it downstairs. It actually came apart pretty easily – Dieter knew just how to detach the hinges; hauling it all down three flights of stairs was the hard part. He gave us an extra 25 Euro for helping him out, which I thought was quite nice of him, especially since he ended up sitting in our driveway for another hour taking all of the hardware off so the wood wouldn’t get scratched up on his drive home. Beth and Axel arrived in their new B-Class to pick up their stuff just as we finished carrying all the wardrobe pieces downstairs. They already own two chairs that match our dining room set, so Beth had laid claim to our chairs several months ago and it was relatively easy to convince them to buy the matching table as well. I also convinced Beth to take most of my Asian cooking ingredients, including some fish sauce, crystallized ginger, and coconut milk. (We had been warned by the moving company not to put a speck of food or alcohol in our shipment to ward off the prying hands of U.S. Customs agents. Apparently if they find something edible or otherwise suspicious in your shipment, they are liable to break into all of your boxes whilly-nilly, destroying your possessions in the process.)

We took a nice walk in the woods near SI-Suites this afternoon, but the weather was pretty lousy and we turned back once it started raining in earnest. We had plans to meet Beth and Axel at 6:00 for dinner and we left a little early since we were also dropping off an old suitcase and our kitchen rug for their Sperrmülle (garbage) collection. (You can’t just leave large household trash out on the street in Germany; you have to call the city and arrange for a special pick-up. Fortunately Beth and Axel had a pick-up scheduled in a few weeks and had agreed to take a few items from us.) We unloaded the stuff and then I drove off with John to find a parking spot. I found a really nice spacious spot on the street a few blocks away and then proceeded to do something incredibly stupid. I turned the car around and pulled up very close to a car parked in front of me, with the intention of putting the car in reverse and backing into the proper position along the curb. Except I was pointing downhill and this particular manual E-Class is especially difficult to get into reverse, and it doesn’t have a handbrake, so I had no way to hold the car in place while I engaged the clutch. John took this opportune moment to point out, “You know this car doesn’t have a handbrake,” which only succeeded in putting me into a nervous state. Needless to say, I didn’t get the car properly into gear and ended up surging forward, stalling the car in the process, and slammed into the car in front of me. It was an old green Mercedes and I did a number on its rear bumper. There was hardly any damage to our car, fortunately, aside from a slightly bent license plate. I called Beth to find out what I should do. Beth was at a loss so she handed the phone over to Axel. We decided against calling the police (heaven forbid!) and I just left a note with my contact information on the car’s front windshield.

I decided to put the incident out of my mind and enjoy our dinner at an ancient Stuttgart restaurant, supposedly one of the oldest establishments in the city. We shared a cozy table in the back of the restaurant and settled in for a traditional feast of maultaschen, schnitzel, and apfelstruedel. Afterwards we said goodbye to Beth and Axel (they will be seeing us off at the airport next weekend so we were able to put off the official parting a bit longer) and I managed to get us back to the hotel again without further incident.

6 December: Movie & Cookies

Speaking of German bureaucracy, something strange happened this week. I went outside one morning and discovered that someone had put up two “no parking” signs on the sidewalk in front of our house. These weren’t any flimsy cardboard signs either; they were the real heavy-duty metal street signs, mounted in heavy plastic blocks. (The symbol for no parking in Europe is a blue circle outlined in red, with a red diagonal line through it.) A piece of paper was attached to each sign indicating that the parking restriction would be in force on the date the movers will be here – Friday, December 7^th from 8 am to 1 pm, including the sidewalk. We have no idea when the signs appeared or who put them there, but they looked quite official!

This morning on my way to Evelyne’s I ran into the lady up the street walking Sophie the Newfoundland, who has grown from a fluffy puppy into a dignified adult, but still retains her youthful charisma. Sophie’s owner had obviously noticed the moving signs and asked about our imminent move back to America. We chatted for a few minutes and I couldn’t help marveling at how much my German has improved since that first day when she asked if Cody was a boy or a girl and I accidentally said that Cody was a girl!

Today marked my last morning walk with Evelyne and Marlene. It has been getting harder and harder to drag myself out of bed in the morning (although I should be thankful that the only pregnancy symptom I have suffered from so far is fatigue!) but I didn’t want to disappoint Evelyne by telling her I couldn’t go walking anymore. Nevertheless, I was secretly grateful that this would be my last early morning outing. Marlene was so busy talking that I don’t think she realized it was the last time I would see her. I promised Evelyne that I would come over next week sometime to visit her and Oda one more time.

Today we picked up our interim car, a silver diesel E-class wagon, in preparation for turning in the E-class tomorrow. Then this evening I picked up Beth and we took the E-Class for its final trip out to Emily’s house in Schwieberdingen for movie night and the annual IWC Cookie Exchange. To participate in the exchange, you are supposed to bring three dozen cookies and you get to take home a selection of cookies from each of the other participants. Beth had kindly volunteered to make my cookies for me since I’ve had quite a lot to keep me busy lately, and she seems to be on a baking kick. I was, however, responsible for bringing the movie: The Princess Bride. It seems that several IWC members are long-time Princess Bride fans, and Emily and I have been repeating our favorite line from the movie ever since our last movie night (“My name is Inigo Montoya. You killed my father. Prepare to die.”). I mentioned that I had a copy of the movie that we could watch, so long as Emily scheduled one more move night before I left! The movie was well-received by newbies (including Anne W.) and of course loved by all (me, Emily, Beth, Shannon). Unfortunately we didn’t have time to watch the many fabulous extras on my special “Buttercup Edition,” including interviews with the stars some twenty years later. Finally we had to drag ourselves away. I said a last goodbye to Emily and came away with a huge bag of cookies to get us through our last week in the hotel. I dropped Beth off and returned home for our very last night in the Botnang house.

3 December: Beth's Special Day

For the past several weeks, Shannon, Jane and I have been planning a special party in honor of Beth’s impending motherhood. Beth has been quite superstitious about her pregnancy and didn’t want a baby shower, so we decided to hold a “celebration of women, friendship and motherhood” instead with a group of close friends from the IWC. I volunteered to host the party, as it would be my last opportunity to entertain before our belongings are strewn to the four winds.

The festivities began at 10:00 this morning. Guests included Shannon, Brenda, Katrina, Thuy, Jane, and Tine (Jane and Tine brought their baby daughters along; Jane’s daughter Vera got along quite well with Cody, who was happy to give her big kisses). Everyone brought a dish to share; we ended up with egg salad sandwiches, pasta, fruit salad, cake, and chocolate chip cookies (the last made by me especially for Beth). I made party favors in the form of tiny glass canisters filled with loose tea, a spicy holiday blend provided by Jane.

With Jane and Shannon’s inspiration, we had several fun activities planned. First, everyone had been instructed to bring a bead to make into a bracelet for Beth. We went around the room and each person explained what the bead symbolized and why we thought Beth would make a wonderful mother. A few people hadn’t been able to find beads so I let them delve into my stash of jewelry-making supplies. At the last minute I chose a large ceramic bead in a pleasing shade of iridescent peach from my collection. I have had this bead since I was 12 or 13 years old; I bought it at the bead shop in Palo Alto while on a jewelry-making outing with my best friend, and made it into a necklace strung on a silk cord. I wore the necklace for a few years and eventually took it apart; the round peach bead has been sitting in my stash ever since. As I started explaining the bead’s history, I looked up and saw that Beth was beginning to get teary-eyed, which of course made me become quite emotional as well, so we both ended up having a good cry (blame it on the rampant hormones of pregnancy).

Our other piece of show-and-tell was to read aloud a favorite quote or story about motherhood or friendship. Some people quoted literature (Shannon brought excerpts from Alice in Wonderland) and others simply wrote straight from the heart. I had selected a quote about motherhood that I printed out and surrounded with pictures of all of the mothers in my life, and told Beth that I hoped that the collective wisdom of mothers everywhere would guide her on this new and exciting journey. It would be my job to collect all of the readings after the party and assemble them into a memory book for Beth, along with photos from today’s festivities.

Finally, we all brought Beth gifts designed to help her through the last months of her pregnancy. I knew a long time ago exactly what I wanted to give her: the original paperback versions of The Blue Sword and The Hero and the Crown by Robin McKinley. These were my two favorite fantasty novels from my high school days and have provided some of the inspiration for my novel. When I gave them to her, I pulled out my own ragged-edged, faded copies to show her as well. Beth also received lots of luxurious bath products and just a few baby toys to put her well on the path towards motherhood. All in all, it was a lovely, emotional gathering and one that I am sure Beth, and all of us, will always remember fondly!

26 November: Goodbye Party, and What the IWC Girls Like About Germany

Brenda had been hounding Heather and I for the past several weeks to set a date for a goodbye party at her house. Finally, after much deliberation and about five minutes of planning, we settled on this Monday evening. It turned out to be a small affair – just me, Heather, Brenda, Shannon, Thuy, Emily, and Beth – but we had a wonderful time sitting around Brenda’s dining room table, chowing down on all the yummy snacks (Crackers and cheese! Veggies and dip! Stuffed peppers! Chips and salsa! Artichoke dip! Oreos! Cream puffs!) that everyone had brought and sipping celebratory champagne. Yes, even us pregos had a few sips; since Beth, Shannon, Heather, and I are all pregnant, it would have been tough for the other three to drink the whole bottle on their own!

I took out my little camera and put everyone on the spot by asking them what they liked about Germany. (The video actually turned out to be a really nice keepsake to remember everyone by.) Everyone had something unique and different to say. Shannon enjoys the opportunity to meet like-minded women who thrive on the international life. For Brenda, there’s nothing not to like about Germany…the people, the country, the food, the recycling and mass transit systems…Shannon quipped, ‘the accessibility of cigarette machines” (Brenda is a smoker)…I think she’s going to be here a long time. Beth had a different perspective, since she grew up in the U.K. and has spent most of her life in Europe. For her, Germany is very “European” in feel as opposed to the insular nature of the U.K. (Of course, she could have just she likes Germany because of her husband Axel, whom we all adore!) “And the wine industry,” she added, “which got me into this,” pointing at her bulging belly. Thuy loves the coffee, the farmers’ markets with their beautiful flowers, the castles, and the walking trails. Emily enjoys the relaxed pace of life (although she wouldn’t mind being able to shop on Sundays) and the availability of NPR and AFN via the army bases. She also married a German, so she must not mind it too much. Heather emphasized the strong family values – the fact that you don’t get worked to death and then go home to your family – and the culture of walking: “Even when its 0 degrees and snowing, people are out walking.”

And as for me? Well, like Brenda, I have very few complaints. Perhaps I would feel differently if I were living here permanently, but on a temporary basis, I haven’t found anything about Germany to be insanely aggravating. I often think back to our “culture shock” training and the discovery that John and I are more similar to Germans in cultural attributes than we are to our fellow Americans. The strict rules have never bothered me because I have my own pretty strict rules. I actually love the fact that people self-police each other when it comes to things like recycling and being quiet on Sundays. The little quirks that make life different here are also what make it fascinating. And one can never forget what I think should be Germany’s national motto: Betreten auf eigene Gefahr – Proceed at your own risk, which pretty much means that you are responsible for your actions, so if you do something stupid, don’t expect to be able to sue someone!

24 November: The Biggest Thanksgiving Ever

The subject of Shannon’s email was “The biggest Thanksgiving you've ever been to and it's not even in the U.S.A” and she was right. More than thirty people and countless children representing multiple nationalities (American, German, British, Australian, French, Indian, Malaysian, Swedish, Filipino) turned out at Shannon and Todd’s house in Feuerbach for a marvelous IWC Thanksgiving celebration this evening. We broke with tradition by holding the feast on Saturday, but personally I’ve always wondered why Thanksgiving has to be on Thursday. My family and John’s are relatively small, so Thanksgiving is usually a quiet affair of 4-6 people. Thus it seemed rather odd that the largest Thanksgiving we’ve ever attended turned out to be this one, celebrated in Germany of all places!

My contribution to dinner consisted of an enormous bowl of cranberry sauce (my secret recipe calls for cooking down the cranberries in a large quantity of red wine infused with orange peel, cinnamon and cloves) and a platter of sweet cornbread. Both were hits, but there was so much cranberry sauce left over that I gave it to Jane, who was going to have to cook a whole ‘nother Thanksgiving dinner for her husband’s colleagues next weekend!

We had an enormous spread with all of the traditional favorites – turkey and stuffing provided by Shannon and Todd, plus an immense array of side dishes and condiments: gravy, mashed potatoes, greenbean casserole, Waldorf and green salads, pasta; and for dessert, pumpkin and pecan pies, cheesecake, brownies, and Apfelkuchen and Schnecke (similar to cinnamon rolls) for a German twist.

Shannon decided to forgo the traditional long Thanksgiving table in order to squeeze more people into her sprawling, multi-level house. She rented stand-up tables instead and set them up around her living room, so we could eat in an upright position and thereby fit more food into our stomachs! John and I ate with Beth, Axel, Jane, and Johannes, filling our plates until there was no more room, and then attempting to cram all of that delicious food into our bellies. Finally the women retired to the couch to digest while the men stood around discussing business.

Suffice it to say that a great time was had by all. In the end, a small group of us clustered around Shannon’s kitchen table, sipping tea and pondering what to do with several whole pies and cakes that had gone untouched. We all got to take home some leftovers, and John and I had Schnecke for breakfast the next morning!

18 November: An Impromptu Hike & My First Facial

I rolled out of bed sometime after 9:00 and made it down to breakfast around 10. Some people had already left for their morning treatments, but there was a table full of IWC women still lingering over breakfast. We enjoyed the elaborate buffet (complete with crêpes!) and then I got to talking with Brenda and Katrina. They were done with their treatments and had the day to themselves, so we all decided to go for a walk together. Brenda had gotten a map of the town from the reception desk along with some rather vague directions for how to get to Kloster Limberg, a nearby monastery, so we decided to go in search of it.

We set off through town, which turned out to be quite a nice place, with a quaint shopping district and quiet residential streets. We saw a sign for Kloster Limberg and started heading up a steep road out of town, but there was no sign of the monastery. Finally we spotted a ruined tower looming on a hill in the distance, but we assumed that it was the castle, which the woman at the reception desk had also mentioned to Brenda. We continued up the road and passed another sign for the monastery. We finally realized that what we were looking at was indeed the ruined remains of Kloster Limberg, but we were separated from it by a deep valley and there was no way we were going to make it all the way over and back. We settled on walking up the road as far as a little clearing, where we found a picnic table with a nice view of the monastery, and took some photos. It looked like quite an amazing place and I wished that we had had more time to explore it. We turned around and retraced our steps back to town, having walked for a good two hours!

We ran into Anne and Shannon on the way back and ended up having lunch with them along with Marina, Gail, and Rosalie at a quaint little Weinstube in town (photo, right). The Sunday menu was written on a small chalkboard that we passed around, and we were waited on by a quintessentially German Frau who put up patiently with our limited German. I had a delicious salad topped with roast duck that really hit the spot. By this point it was almost time for my facial, so I had to hurry back to the hotel. I had arranged to keep my room for a late check-out, so I went upstairs and finished packing up my things before heading up to the spa. I was shown into the same room that I had been in for my back massage, except that this time the table was converted into a lounge chair. I put on a robe and settled in for my 90 minutes of indulgence: a gentle cleansing and a facial massage followed by a steam bath (which basically involves having hot steam blown on your face for twenty minutes with damp pads over your eyes), and then a crème mask was applied and left on for half an hour or so. This was all very relaxing except for the fact that the steam bath was a little too hot and I had to reach up and adjust the sprayers or else I might have suffered a burn (as it was, my neck was bright red afterwards!). They were also playing an awful collection of 80s pop hits that had been terribly morphed into “soothing” spa music. Just as I was finally drifting off, the spa attendant came in and removed the mask. By the end of it I was satisfied, but not overwhelmingly thrilled with my first spa experience!

I picked up my luggage from my room and went downstairs to the lobby, where the last members of the group were assembled. We shared a few thoughts about the weekend and were pretty much in agreement that next time they should try to find a dedicated spa hotel – perhaps in a true spa destination like Baden-Baden. The difficulty lies in finding a place relatively close to Stuttgart that isn’t too expensive and will allow a one-night stay on a weekend. I suggested to Anne that she contact some of the hotels that normally have a two-night minimum and try to work out a deal with them, since the IWC could promise to fill 10-15 rooms.

I met up with Brenda, Sibylle, and Gerlinde and we loaded our things into the E-Class. Before heading back to Stuttgart, we drove up the road a few miles to the castle to get a quick look at the ruins. It was almost dark so my photos don’t do it justice, but it looked like another atmospheric ruin, ripe for exploration. Night was falling as we headed onto the Autobahn, and we got home a little after 7:00. All in all, it was a fun-filled weekend with the girls and I would not have missed it for the world!

17 November: Girls Just Wanna Have Fun (The IWC Spa Weekend)

It’s time at last for the IWC’s first annual spa weekend! I have been looking forward to this exciting event for months, and I’m so glad that they managed to fit it into the schedule before I left. I’ve never been to a spa before – heck, I’ve never even gotten so much as a back massage – so I have no idea what to expect. I talked Katrina into coming and us newbies decided to sign up for a simple facial and back massage. The more experienced spa-goers are opting for elaborate treatments like full-body massages and wraps, but I wasn’t ready for anything requiring total nudity quite yet. In total, about fifteen of us are going from the club, including my friends Anne, Shannon, Emily, Brenda, and Rosalie.

The IWC selected the 4-star Hotel Mercure Bad Dürkheim an den Salinen for our members-only weekend of relaxation and luxury. Located about ninety minutes from Stuttgart on the outskirts of the small town of Bad Dürkheim, this was the only hotel they could find with spa services that didn’t require a two-night minimum stay. I offered to be a carpool driver since I had the E-Class at my disposal, so I ended up with Brenda and two German women, Sibylle and Gerlinde, in my car. Originally I was going to take Eliza too, but she unfortunately had to cancel at the last minute.

Brenda met me at my house at 9:30 on this sunny Saturday morning and then we headed over to the university campus near Vaihingen to pick up Sibylle and Gerlinde. The drive up to Bad Dürkheim went quickly and we arrived at the modern, nondescript Hotel Mercure just before noon. Our car was the last to arrive; everyone else from the group had already checked in. I had decided to splurge on a single room for myself but most of the women were sharing rooms. I checked in and received my confirmation for my spa treatments, then took my luggage up to my room on the third floor. The accommodations were simple and tasteful, and a spa robe, slippers and bath sponge were arranged on the bed. I had a view across the parking lot to a vineyard-covered hill topped with a tiny chapel (photo, above). Just beyond the parking lot were the burnt-out remains of the Salinen, which gave the hotel its name. Apparently this was some sort of mineral bath where people could absorb soothing salt-infused air, but it burned down last year – I never did get the whole story. After settling in, I wandered downstairs and followed the sound of laughing American voices into the restaurant, where most of the group was assembled for lunch. I found myself seated between several women I had never met; everyone was friendly and seemed excited about the weekend ahead. I wasn’t very hungry so I just ordered a bowl of tomato soup, but the sandwiches looked very good.

After lunch everyone headed off for their afternoon treatments. I had a few hours to kill so I went upstairs, made myself some instant hot chocolate using the in-room coffee maker, and spent some quality time writing (I had brought my laptop along just in case I had some down time). My first treatment was scheduled for 5:30 and I thought it would be the facial, so I prepared myself by washing my face and wearing loose, comfortable clothing. (Some people went upstairs in nothing but their underwear and a robe, but I figured they would let me change there if that was deemed appropriate.) The spa facilities are located on the top floor of the hotel, and it was obvious from the moment I walked in the door that this place was not originally intended as a spa. It looked more like a temporary set-up in what might have been a storage room at some point. The spa itself was built into the space beneath the eaves of the building, with a low, sloped ceiling and what looked like pre-fab fiberglass walls separating the individual treatment rooms.

Somewhat skeptical, I walked in and gave my name to the young woman who appeared from one of the back rooms. She informed me that I was actually having my 25-minute back massage this afternoon, not the facial as I had expected. This meant that I would not begin my facial until 3:30 tomorrow afternoon, so my driving mates would have to wait until after 5:00 to head home to Stuttgart. Unfortunately they did not have any openings for an earlier treatment, so I would have to check with everyone tonight and make sure that they were okay getting home a bit later tomorrow evening.

I was shown into one of the small white-walled treatment rooms, with a massage table in the middle covered in towels and tranquil music playing in the background. The young woman indicated that I should strip down to the waist and lie on the table; she left the room while I did this, which I appreciated. I know the Germans are totally comfortable with nudity, especially when it comes to their beloved “wellness” facilities like spas and saunas, but seeing as how this was my first time in a spa of any kind, I was feeling a bit self-conscious! The woman came back a few minutes later, rubbed me down with a warm massage oil, and proceeded to give me the wimpiest back massage you can possibly imagine. Don’t get me wrong, it felt nice, but it was like getting a tiny appetizer when you are expecting a generous main course. She hardly used any pressure at all and the whole thing was over just about the time when I was really starting to relax. By my clock it was done in less than 20 minutes. If I had spoken better German I might have complained, but since I hardly knew what I should expect, I decided to let it slide. Feeling a bit let down, I headed back to my room, thinking that I might take a swim in the pool before dinner. I ran into Katrina on the way; she had just come from the pool area and said not to bother because it was crowded with rambunctious kids. Hmmm….this was not turning out to be very relaxing or luxurious so far! Katrina had both her facial and back massage today and had the same experience with the massage, but fortunately her facial sounded pretty nice.

Instead of going to the pool, I took a long hot shower before going down to the lounge to join the rest of the group for pre-dinner drinks. As we gathered it came out that three of us were pregnant (me, Rosalie, and an American woman named Gail) – and all at about the same stage! Fortunately the bar menu included a virgin Caipirinha (Brazilian margarita), my favorite drink. It wasn’t quite as good without the rum, but it was a whole lot better than mineral water.

One of the girls I had met at lunch, a boisterous American named Kristine whose husband is a military dentist (I never realized there was such a thing!), shared her hilarious spa experience and had us all on the verge of tears, we were laughing so hard. I can’t possibly replicate her mannerisms, but I’ll try to summarize her story. Despite being a spa newbie, Kristine had decided to go whole-hog with one of the body wraps, so she stripped naked and lay down in the reclined treatment chair. They started wrapping her from the feet up, but stopped around her thighs and left her lying there, pretty much mummified from the wasit down but stark naked on top. The spa attendant offered to bring her some tea, which was then placed on a table nearly out of reach, and since Kristine was practically lying on her back, she couldn’t drink it without great difficulty. While she was thus immobilized (supposedly enjoying the deep penetrating effects of the wrap), she got really bored and desperately wanted to get her magazine, which was lying on a chair on the other side of the room. She finally swung her bound legs out of the chair and “hopped” her way over to retrieve the magazine (keep in mind that her top half was still bare), moving as fast as she could lest someone come into the room and catch her in the act of this rather embarrassing maneuver. Needless to say, it was a rather excrutiating 45 minutes and she was relieved when the whole ordeal was over!

Kristine’s story didn’t end there; she gamely decided to try out the sauna next. One of the rooms had a sign outside that said something involving frei (which usually means “free” or “available”). Kristine’s German is still in development, so she assumed that it meant the room was available. What she didn’t realize was that she was going into the co-ed nude sauna. The place ended up being crowded with naked men (there was some sort of business conference going on at the hotel this weekend) and she had to squeeze in on a lower bench right below some guy who was literally letting it all hang out. Kristine stuck to her guns and kept her towel on, but needless to say, she didn’t linger very long. Fortunately she seems to be a pretty tough cookie and took her first spa experience in stride.

We all filed into the dining area at 7:30 and found an enormous banquet table laid out for us in our very own private room. I sat between Katrina and Emily and across from Brenda and Kristine, so suffice it to say that I was well-entertained. Katrina and I shared a tomato and mozzarella salad to start and then we both had a nice plate of venison. Several people ordered a pasta dish that turned out to be store-bought tortellini smothered in bottled tomato sauce. It was really quite awful, so someone complained. One of our servers, a robust blonde woman with a good sense of humor, came back with one of the chefs to apologize and they offered the offended guests free tiramisu to make up for the disappointing meal. It turned out that they had seven servings of tiramisu left over, so several more of us had it too (including me).

While we were lingering over dessert, Emily suddenly exclaimed, “Check out that zoot suit!” She was staring down the hall towards the reception area, and sure enough, a very dapper-looking black man was standing there in a black-and-white pin-striped zoot suit and black fedora. I can’t say that I had ever heard anyone use the term “zoot suit” in casual conversation before, but this definitely fit the bill. “Do you think he’s American?” I asked, and Emily rolled her eyes in exasperation. A small group of us (Americans all) decided to go down the hall to investigate (strangely, the Europeans among us did not share our interest in the zoot suited-man). We found him milling around the lobby along with a Tina Turner look-alike and a motley assemblage of back-up singers and crewmen. It turned out that they were members of a musical act from Atlanta performing at the wine festival in Bad Dürkheim. We ended up having a nice chat with Mr. Zoot Suit and he even came back to our dining room for a photo op (photo, above).

After this excitement, about half of the group dispersed back to their rooms, but the night was still young and a few of us were interested in checking out the hotel’s subterranean nightclub. We couldn’t hear anything coming from down below so our expectations were quite low; imagine our surprise when we went downstairs and discovered the club crammed to the rafters! The dance floor was crowded with people, every table around the room was full, plus dozens of people were milling around the bar. The music was deafening, the disco ball was spinning, and the whole place was sparkling with tiny white lights. Who knew that the Hotel Mercure was the place to be on a Saturday night in Bad Dürkheim? Our group (me, Katrina, Shannon, Sunny, Anne, Rosalie, and Marina) pressed our way onto the dance floor and did our best to come up with appropriate moves for the less-than-groovy German pop that was blaring over the sound system. At some point the DJ got the crowd doing a line dance, which only Shannon knew the steps to. It was fun for a while but they kept doing it…over and over and over and over again! Emily and Sunny finally went to get drinks while the rest of us waited at a nearby table; a few minutes later, Shannon and I spotted Anne, Brenda, Marina, and Rosalie slipping out the door. We thought they were ditching us so we took off after them. It took us a while to track them down (this involved shouting up and down the elevator shaft a few times), and Anne and Rosalie had already made it back to their rooms and had changed into their pajamas when we finally caught up with them! After a lot of cajoling we made them get dressed and come back down to the club, where poor Emily and Sunny had been left guarding our drinks.

In the end, Shannon, Emily, Sunny and I were the last standing. We went back upstairs to the lounge for another round of drinks and I instructed the bewildered waiter in how to make a Shirley Temple, since I was running out of fun non-alcoholic beverage ideas. It didn’t come out quite right, but it was close enough. At this point Shannon, Emily and Sunny had consumed quite a lot of alcohol and were feeling hunger pangs. Unfortunately the restaurant was long since closed and our inquiries at the reception desk came up with no food options other than a McDonald’s near the Autobahn. Apparently the Hotel Mercure really was the only place to be on a Saturday night in Bad Dürkheim. We finally retired to Shannon and Emily’s room, where they had some chocolate stashed away. It was getting on towards 2 a.m. at this point, and much as I didn’t want the night to end, I decided it was probably time for this future mom to call it quits. Let’s just say it was my last girls’ night out!

16 November: Oda's Debate Class

Oda has been begging me to come to one of her English debate club meetings and we finally arranged for me to attend today. I was still feeling quite miserable from my cold but I didn’t want to disappoint her. We planned to meet at the Schloss-Johannesstraße U-Bahn stop at 1:15. I got there early and saw her coming; she was chowing down a pork sandwich slathered in ketchup. We walked a few blocks to her school, which is housed in a multi-story complex of nondescript post-war buildings. I think this is the first time I have ever stepped foot inside an “indoor” high school, as I went to school in northern California where it rarely goes below freezing and the school common areas are all outdoors. We went upstairs and down a hall to a small classroom, where a few of the debate club members were already hanging out. Oda introduced me and then we sat down with a couple of her friends, Therese and Vivica, and waited for the rest of the group to show up.

Their teacher walked in a few minutes later – a middle-aged German woman with long bleached-blond hair. She called the meeting to order and asked me to introduce myself. I told them my name and they all laughed, then I explained how I knew Oda. The teacher asked, “So you work with Oda’s mother?” and I said, “No, we just go walking in the mornings.” Then she asked, “So you have debate experience?” and I said, “Not exactly, but I worked for an organization in Michigan where I had to do a lot of public speaking and talking to reporters.” (Oda had told her teacher I was coming, but I got the sense that she was fishing for a reason to justify my presence.) Eventually the group broke in two to discuss the arguments they had prepared on the topic of women in positions of leadership. Oda’s teacher assigned me to the group arguing in favor, while Oda was on the opposing side. I found myself in a group of four surly teenage boys and one girl, none of whom had done much preparation because they thought their argument was so easy to win. Imagine my horror when I discovered that most of the boys in the group actually believed that women should not hold positions of leadership. A couple of them came across as real chauvinist pigs. It was quite an eye-opener, but I tried to keep my mouth shut and only helped them out with wording their arguments. In the end they didn’t have time to actually practice the debate, which was a shame. They spent a long time discussing their future meeting schedule and making arrangements for an upcoming debate competition, a weekend trip which several members of the group would be attending, including Oda.

On the way back to the U-Bahn I chatted some more with Oda and her friends. One of them had spent a year on a student exchange in Seattle and spoke perfect English with barely a hint of an accent. She told me that she had had a very difficult time when she first arrived in the U.S. because the American students all made fun of her German accent. I told her that they had no right to do that, since I was quite certain that none of them could speak a foreign language half as well! Even after four years of high school French, most of my classmates could barely carry on a simple conversation. I have been really impressed with Oda’s command of English and it surprises me that she finds herself struggling academically – she has told me that her teachers want her to read more English books and improve her grammar. Let me assure you, the German kids I have met put most American high school students to shame! I think I will help Oda out by getting her a copy of The Blue Sword, which was one of my favorite fantasy novels in high school. It’s not too long and should be right up her alley, since she loves fantasy and role-playing games.

15 November: Eliza's Pearl Sale

I walked over to Eliza’s after my morning walk to check out the pearl jewelry that she brought back from her trip home to Malaysia. Unfortunately she didn’t bring any of the really unusual colored pearls that she often wears, but she had some beautiful stuff and I had a tough time making my selections. Shannon had already picked out a couple of strands of green pearls and shell beads that I coveted! Beth and Brenda were also there and had picked out some very nice things. I ended up buying three necklaces and a bracelet.

Eliza can’t entertain without cooking up a feast, and she had prepared an amazing spread of scrambled eggs, sausage, fish ball soup, and fried rice. She was pouring Sekt for everyone and I had to decline, “because of my cold,” but Eliza gave me a funny look and said, “not because you are pregnant?” Obviously the girls know me well enough to question my refusal of a glass of wine. Finally we were all sitting around the table and the topic of pregnancy kept coming up and I looked at Beth and said, “I just can’t do this anymore!” I am a terrible liar, so I told them the truth, and of course Brenda said, “I thought so!” It was a relief to make it public; I know it’s still really early, but if something happens, it was meant to be and I know everyone will be very understanding.

9 November: My First German OB/GYN Visit, High Tea, & a Besenwirtschaft

I decided to drive to my doctor’s appointment in Stuttgart-West and took John’s car so I’d have the navi. This ended up being a colossal mistake. I circled the block twice trying to find a parking space and ended up scraping up against a blue A-Class as I tried to back into a parking space on the street. Someone was waiting behind me, which always stresses me out, and the parking sensors didn’t go off. (John hit a concrete post in the parking garage of SI-Suites when we were on our look-see trip because the parking sensors didn’t go off. Apparently they aren’t very good at detecting objects at the corner of your car.) I got out of the car and didn’t see any damage to the A-Class; I didn’t even think to look at my car to see what I had done. I didn’t know what to do and no one was around, so I left. I ended up parking really far away from the doctor’s office, but at least I found a space that I could actually fit that enormous boat of a car into.

Dr. Linckh’s office is on the second floor of an old building (coincidentally located on Frauenstraße), with a small waiting room paneled in dark wood. I checked in with a young Indian woman at the reception desk, filled out my name and personal information on a tiny slip of paper, hung up my jacket, and sat down for a few minutes. Then they called me into the Labo where the Indian woman asked me a rapid-fire series of questions in German. The first one totally stumped me – I finally figured out that she was just asking when I had my last physical! I also had no idea how tall I was in centimeters, which she seemed to think was rather odd. Most of the other questions I could figure out well enough, but she didn’t offer up any English. She took a blood sample and I went back to wait again (thankfully I had brought my knitting).

Finally I was shown into the doctor’s office and met Dr. Linckh, who I recognized from the picture on her website. She’s middle-aged and quite cheerful, for a doctor. She knew that I had requested that she speak English, although her English seemed a bit rusty. She asked me some questions and then showed me into the examination room. I went into a tiny closet-like changing room and stripped from the waist down. Then I had to walk across the room half-naked and take a seat on the examination chair – a little different from America, where it’s all about modesty and you get a nice paper sheet to lay over yourself before anyone enters the room!

Dr. Linckh did a vaginal ultrasound, which Beth had fortunately warned me about in advance. It was very strange to sit there and look at the fuzzy black image on the screen for the first time…there’s your ovaries, there’s your uterus, etc. She couldn’t see anything definitive on the ultrasound but I am only about three weeks along, so that is not surprising. I told her that I was very happy to have gotten pregnant so quickly. She jotted some notes on my chart and I saw that she wrote down “glücklich” (happy). She also has a degree in psychology so I was pleased to see that she was interested in my mental state as well as the physical. She asked me to come back on Monday for the test results.

I called Beth on the way to my car and filled her in, then drove over to her place to join the ladies for tea. I was trying to pull into a tight spot outside her building and I got the rear wheel hung up on a little metal fence. I did a real number on the wheel. Here I’d been in Europe for over two years without a single incident and now I had hit two things in one day! While I was tallying the damage I went around to the front of the car and saw a small streak of blue paint. Oh, brother!

Beth met me at the door and said that she’d told everyone that I would be late because I had a doctor’s appointment, but of course the ever-astute Brenda had instantly asked if I was pregnant. I went into the bathroom to give myself a moment to think about what I was going to say. I had this brilliant idea – I’d just tell them about my irregular heartbeat and that I wanted to have it checked out since I’m trying to get pregnant. I walked into the dining room and was immediately the center of attention, but the heartbeat story seemed to do the trick. Brenda, Eliza, Thuy, Judy, and Beth were all there; Shannon was sick. They’d saved some food for me, so I pigged out on Beth’s homemade scones with clotted cream and strawberry preserves, followed up with cucumber, egg salad, and smoked salmon sandwiches. I declined a glass of champagne, which garnered a few suspicious looks. Brenda, Eliza and Thuy left around 12:30 but Judy and I hung out until 2:00. I decided I didn’t mind telling Judy, and I just couldn’t not talk about it any longer! It turns out that she didn’t know Beth was pregnant until today, so she got quite the double-whammy.

I finally had to drag myself away so I could go home and finish getting the house ready for our furniture sale tomorrow. I ended up vacuuming, mopping, and cleaning the bathrooms but I had put the laundry and ironing out of sight. I started working on the bid sheets too (we're going to do this silent auction style) but I will have to finish them in the morning.

This evening we met our German friends Uli and Markus for dinner at a Besenwirtschaft about halfway between Stuttgart and Pforzheim. As you may recall, a Besenwirtschaft (literally “broom business”) is a family-run restaurant usually located at a vineyard or farm which only has a permit to be open for a few months out of the year (usually in the spring and fall). They cater to a local crowd and offer simply country food accompanied by cheap wine in large quantities. The reference to the broom in the name comes from the tradition of leaving a broom outside the door to indicate that the place is cleaned up and open for business. We drove out into the countryside to Enzweihingen, not too far from our kennel in Unterriexingen, and watched out for signs to the Berghof, which was the only information that Uli and Markus could give us, since there was no street address! We ended up spotting the signs pretty easily and found our way up a narrow country lane to a small farm on top of a hill. Inside, the place was already packed to the rafters but we found Uli and Markus in a small room in back, squeezed in at a long table with another party. Sharing tables at a Besenwirtschaft is customary and it is not uncommon to strike up a conversation with your neighbors.

We had a great meal of traditional Schwäbisch delights and shared a couple of large carafes of Lemberger. (I tried not to make it too obvious that I wasn’t drinking much, since it was still a bit too early to tell Uli and Markus that I’m pregnant.) Uli and Markus told us more about their trip to South Africa, including their roadside encounter with a large bull elephant. We thought they were quite brave to have rented a car and explored the bush on their own. We also chatted with one of the hosts for a few minutes, a large jovial man, and when John and I mentioned that we had been out to that neck of the woods before to take our dog to the kennel at Schloss Unterriexingen, he replied, “Oh, yes, I know Herr Ratibor!” It was a wonderful moment…there we were, sharing a traditional meal with friends out in the countryside on a chilly November evening, speaking German for several hours on end, and we had a found a common acquaintance with our host! After dinner we had to say our final farewells to Uli and Markus, whom we have really enjoyed getting to know over the past two years. I fondly recall our early spring hike in the Schwarzwald, when we began our first tentative conversations in German. Uli actually got teary-eyed when we all said goodbye, which was very touching. I hope we will see them again on one of their trips to the U.S.

Postscript: The blue paint came off the E-Class’ bumper with a little mineral spirits.

6 November: Some Excitement on the Home Front

Success at last with my Winterreifen! As you may recall, I had hoped to sell them to a woman who parked her smart forfour in front of our house back in October. Her husband, Herr Holzapfel, had come by the following weekend to look at the wheels and tires and seemed agreeable, but he wanted to check with his dealer to make sure that the Brabus wheels would fit properly on his car. (He wasn’t even sure if he had a real Brabus or just the appearance package, and I couldn’t help him because he had come in a different car to look at the tires.) I had given up hope on him because he never called me back, and John and I just went through the stressful process of posting an ad for the tires on German EBay a few days ago. It was hard enough figuring out how to post the ad on the all-German site; we also had to decide whether or not were would be willing to ship them. I didn’t want to deal with the hassle of shipping four tires and I was quite sure that there was an option on EBay for you to indicate “pick-up only,” but we couldn’t figure it out, so we had to put in an amount for shipping. We had no offers yet but someone sent us a question about the tires this morning. Then Mr. Holzapfel called later today and confirmed that he wants to buy them after all! He apologized for not calling, but said that they had been out of town for two weeks. So I win on both counts – we get 350 Euro (we had started the bidding on EBay at 275) and I don’t have to ship them. Herr Holzapfel arranged to come pick them up this Saturday, which is the same day as our moving sale.

I went over to Beth’s apartment in Stuttgart-West today to talk about my book and start teaching her to knit. I found her building again without any difficulty (I gave her a ride home after lunch last week) and made my way up the five flights of stairs (not as bad as it sounds, because the staircase is full of light and quite pleasant, although I don't envy her when she gets to be 9 months pregnant!). Their place is small but really nice – light and airy, with gorgeous views out over downtown Stuttgart and up to some vineyards and beautiful homes on a hill over the city. They have a lovely balcony off their kitchen with lots of plants.

The first thing I said once I was in the door was, “So…how do you say pregnancy test in German?” Yes, it looks like there’s a good chance that I might be in that “delicate condition.” I am trying not to get too excited about it yet, but we were really hoping that we might get pregnant before leaving Germany. I thought Beth might have a spare test left over from when she was trying to get pregnant, and she did. So that topic ended up occupying us for a good long time, but we eventually sat down for tea and cake and talked about my book. We spent the last 45 minutes or so on knitting. She had bought some fuzzy black-and-white yarn at her local yarn shop to make her first scarf but I got her started on some practice yarn that I had brought along because your first knitting attempt is never exactly neat. I didn’t have time to show her how to cast-on so I did that for her and then showed her how to start with basic garter stitch. She caught on pretty fast and was able to do a couple of rows before I had to leave.

26 October: Lunch with Beth & Katrina

I met Beth and Katrina downtown for lunch today. We went to a new Italian place just off of the Schlossplatz which is part of a chain of pizza-pasta places with a unique format: you walk in and pick up a plastic card like a credit card, which you use to “buy” your food at various stations, where they make pizza and pasta to your specifications. If you’re ordering a pizza, you get a pager that goes off when your pizza is ready. You buy drinks at another station and then at the end of your meal you go to the checkout station, where they take your card and ring you up. The place was packed and the pizza was quite good. Afterwards we went over to Starbucks behind the Schlossplatz and hung out in the upstairs lounge for a long time. It was quite an enjoyable way to spend a Friday afternoon with good friends!

16 October: Mercedes Museum, Kitchen Negotiations, and an African Dinner

I had plans to meet Stefanie at the Mercedes Museum this afternoon, where I had promised to be her personal tour guide and show her the video of John talking about car design. It’s hard to believe how fast the time is flying by – it has been over a month since our last German lesson. I thought that I knew how to get to the Mercedes Museum, but I brought my Stuttgart atlas along just in case. I left a little late but would have been okay if I had found the museum quickly. Instead I got a little confused driving around the giant Mercedes complex in Untertürkheim and ended up having to ask for directions at the entrance to a Mercedes parking garage. I finally found the museum garage and made my way to the entrance. Only after leaving my car did I realize that I had left Stefanie’s handy number behind, so I couldn’t call her to tell her I was on my way. I wandered around the entrance for a while and finally found Stefanie, who I’m sure had arrived ten minutes early!

Aside: A first in Germany – the angry pedestrian. As I was driving down a major street through Stuttgart on the way to the museum, a woman standing on the sidewalk leaned out and spat on my windshield. I don’t think I would have realized what happened except that I immediately looked in my rearview mirror and saw her spit on the Audi behind me as well. I suppose she was really disgruntled about something, or just plain crazy.

We only had a couple of hours to spend together so we did a relatively quick walk-through of the museum. It was fun to show Stefanie around and she was immensely pleased to see John’s video. We stopped for Kaffee und Kuchen in the museum café afterwards and had a very nice chat. Unfortunately our time was cut short because Stefanie had to make it to her next class earlier than she had anticipated, but I told her that we wanted to have her over for dinner before we left and would be in touch again soon.

This afternoon I had the regrettable task of going over to the Dörrs and discussing the issue of the price of our kitchen. They had offered to purchase our kitchen from us, which was to our advantage because selling a kitchen is not an easy thing to do. You see, in Germany, people take everything with them when they move – yes, including the kitchen sink, along with every single light fixture, curtain rod, cabinet, and appliance. This sounds insane, especially when you consider that every kitchen is different and it must be a real pain to try to make your old kitchen fit into a new space, but I suppose it’s a cultural thing – waste nothing, and once you’ve bought something, it’s yours for the long haul.

John had talked to some people at work and we had come up with the price of 1800 Euro for our 4-year-old kitchen, which we thought was quite a bargain. When I rang the Dörrs’ bell, no one answered, but Herr Dörr came to the window on my way back to our house. I told him that I wanted to discuss our kitchen and suggested our price. He immediately shook his head and said, “Nein, zu viel, zu viel.” (No, too much, too much.) Dismayed, I asked him what he thought a good price would be. He launched into a lengthy explanation about how much the Grays (the previous tenants) had paid to install the kitchen, and that we had paid one-third of that price, and that DaimlerChrysler had actually paid for our things so whatever we made off of the kitchen was basically “free money” for us. I was more than a bit annoyed that they knew all of these details about our personal finances. Finally he said that they were willing to pay us one-third of what we had paid the Grays. I was not about to try to point out the irrationality of this logic (by which our kitchen would soon be worth nothing at all), but asked instead what he thought a good price would be. He suggested something between 800 and 1000 Euro. At this point Frau Dörr appeared in the window and Herr Dörr explained the matter to her. She didn’t say much; I think she felt a little awkward about the whole thing and obviously didn’t want to get into a fight with me. Frustrated, I said that I would have to talk to mein Mann and left it at that.

This evening was the IWC’s monthly dinner, this time at an African restaurant called Ambiente in Stuttgart-Mitte. I decided to take the U-Bahn since I had long ago learned my lesson not to park in unfamiliar neighborhoods of downtown Stuttgart, particularly at night. I headed to Charlottenplatz on the U4, where I needed to change to the 15 line and go a few stops to Eugensplatz. I knew there was something special about the 15 because it is the only train that doesn’t have the “U” in front of the number. It turns out to be the last “old” train running in Stuttgart, and will soon be replaced by the brand spanking new U15. The old 15’s cars are much lower to the ground than the new cars, so it even has its own special lowered platform at the very end of the Charlottenplatz station. When the train arrived, I boarded and found myself standing in the “hinge” between two cars; the floor beneath my feet was actually designed to rotate as the train went around corners. I got off at Eugensplatz and found myself on a dark residential street, completely disoriented. Fortunately there was a bus stop nearby with a small map showing the street layout in the immediate vicinity, so I was able to reorient myself. I was actually a block above Werastraße, where I needed to be, and the fastest way to get there was through a dark and deserted park built into the hillside. I walked quickly down a steep concrete path and was surprised to find a waterfall cascading over a very cool Art Nouveau-style fountain. It was beautiful and if there had been enough light, I would have taken a picture. I finally came out on Werastraße and went in search of building number 1, which seemed like it should be straightforward enough, but anyone who has spent some time in European cities knows that the street numbering systems are anything but straightforward. I eventually found the entrance to Ambiente, but it wasn’t even on Werastraße!

Inside, a huge group of IWC ladies was already gathered in Ambiente’s “sand room”, where you sit on pillows on the floor and the floor is, indeed, covered with sand. Rich silk curtains shroud the walls and ceilings, warm amber lamps hang low over the tables, and you definitely get the feeling of being in a rich Bedouin tent out in the middle of the desert. Several of us shared a huge sampler platter with all sorts of interesting meat and vegetable curries, served on a delicious pancake-like flatbread. I spent most of the evening talking with a new British club member and Annette K., the woman I met at Shannon’s sushi night who spent six years in Texas and speaks English with only a hint of an accent. (It took us a while to remember where we had met before, and I was thrown off because once again I assumed that she was American!) Fortunately I was able to hitch a ride home with Brenda, so I didn’t have to repeat my long train ride. It was yet another lovely evening with the IWC, and I couldn’t help thinking that I only have one more IWC dinner left before we leave Stuttgart for good.

13 October: Oda's Volleyball Game

Oda has been dying for me to come watch one of her volleyball games, and today our mutual schedules finally worked in her favor. Evelyne picked me up around 2:00 and we went first to Aldi to pick up some snacks. I had never been in this particular bargain grocery store before, and it was a bit shocking – like something you would have expected to find in Europe 20 or 30 years ago. The selection was very limited and the whole place had a sort of cluttered-closet feel to it. We picked up some generic brand cola, cookies and gummy bears (Evelyne was shocked to hear that Gummibären translates literally into English) and then drove down the street to the gym. We had each brought a folding chair and set up camp along the sidelines. Oda’s team was warming up and she came over quickly to say hi. Evelyne was quite frank in admitting that Oda’s team is not very good – or at least, as Evelyne put it, “They have no confidence.” She also admitted that Oda had put on some weight after her knee surgery and really needed to lose a few kilos. I’m sure Oda would have been quite mortified to hear her mother discussing her weight, but that’s Evelyne for you!

What’s interesting about organized sports in Germany is that they aren’t coordinated through the school system; youth sports don’t have anywhere close to the following that they do in the States. While fitness and sports are certainly popular, they are kept entirely separate from academic life. Oda’s team is part of an amateur league with members all over the Stuttgart area. Oda actually looked to be one of the youngest members of her team, whose ages ranged from 17 to perhaps mid-40s. I thought it was all pretty cool – a nice opportunity for a teenage girl to develop friendships with women of all ages.

Oda didn’t play much in the first set, which her team lost, but they came back and won the second two sets, so they were quite thrilled. I kept saying “Nice!” when someone made a good shot or save, but I should have been saying, “Schön!” In between sets, some other spectators showed up and Evelyne chatted with them briefly, but we were the only friends or family that stuck around for the whole game. During the break we offered the team our gummy bears, which they happily gobbled up.

It was getting on in the afternoon so I called John and had him walk down to meet me with Cody, so we could walk back together through the woods. I left as the second game was starting with another team, who looked quite good during their warm-up. Evelyne didn’t have high hopes for Oda’s team, and she told me later that they ended up losing, but played well.

11 October: Der Wixxer

I went over to Evelyne’s this afternoon for coffee and showed her and Oda some pictures from Michigan, California, and Washington. They especially liked seeing our house and also some pictures of me when I was around Oda’s age. They showed me the first half-hour or so of a German comedy called Der Wixxer, which is a spoof of an Edgar Wallace horror film (the German equivalent of Edgar Allen Poe meets Sherlock Holmes). Evelyne turned on the German subtitles (they were speaking with a Saxon accent that I could barely comprehend) and I was amazed at how many of the jokes I could understand. Part of the film takes place in a mansion called Castle Blackwhite, and all of the scenes in the castle are filmed in, naturally, black & white. There’s a butler named Alfons Hatler who bears an uncanny resemblance to Hitler and he has some particularly funny lines:

Butler Alfons Hatler: I could be your Führer...

Butler Alfons Hatler: [After the Wixxer poisons himself] Rogues killing themselves, only because their plans to rule the world went down the drain…

There were also lots of funny insider German jokes:

Sir John: This is Dieter Dubinsky. He's from East Germany.
Chief Inspector Even Longer: I'm sorry to hear that.

We didn’t watch the whole thing because I had to take Cody for his afternoon walk. I really should be watching more German TV and films, but it is incredibly draining.

8 September: Dinner at the Weindorf

John and I walked with Evelyne and Eiko this morning because Gert went to judge a hunting dog trial. Evelyne is really disappointed that we are leaving soon and asked John if there wasn’t some way we could stay longer. He explained that it just wouldn’t work out with his job, but we joked that maybe he could find a job with another German automaker. Of course Evelyne took this very seriously and thought it would be quite grand if John went to work for Porsche so we could stay in Stuttgart. John had to explain that Porsche’s design department is very small and it isn’t the best place for a car designer since they only make a few different cars.

We had arranged to meet Beth and Axel at the Weindorf this evening for dinner. They were running late so John and I stood at the entrance to the Altes Schloss on Schillerplatz for a while, watching the world go by. I just love the festive atmosphere of the Weindorf at night, with the tents all lit up and everyone happy, laughing, eating, and drinking. When Beth and Axel finally arrived, Beth was shuffling along quite slowly and immediately revealed to us that she is 17 weeks pregnant! She was really sick over the summer and had a scare that required hospitalization. She was afraid for a long time that she was going to lose the baby, which is why she hadn’t told me earlier, and she is still getting around very slowly, trying to be careful. I knew she wasn’t feeling well back in July when we went to see the Harry Potter movie and it turns out she spent most of her time in Sweden in August recovering from that entire trauma. Fortunately she is doing much better now.

We found an open table in one of the tents and settled down in front of hearty plates of Maultaschen, Kartoffelsalat and potato pancakes with applesauce. John and I had glasses of Lemberger and Spätburgunder and Beth had Neuwein (the seasonal “new wine” which has not yet finished fermentation). John and Axel seemed to hit it off pretty well – Axel also works for Mercedes and his job was seriously impacted by the “de-merger” so they had plenty to talk about. It started sprinkling while we ate so we decided to stay put at our cozy table rather than go out to find someplace else to have dessert. John and I had small glasses of Kerner Spätlese and we all had the Apfelküchle mit Vanillesösle (apple fritters with vanilla sauce; written with the Schwäbisch diminutive “le”).

Beth and I were quite fascinated during dinner by the large group of young American women at the table behind us. We couldn’t help but notice how loud they were; it’s no wonder Europeans think Americans are noisy and obnoxious. I guess I've been here long enough to really start noticing these things. You could here these girls clear across the room! They were all flashing big diamonds and we guessed that they must be officers’ wives out for a night on the town.

We finally settled our bill with our waitress (she seemed relieved that this was the last big night of the Weindorf – she said it’s much easier to serve beer at the Volksfest, when you don’t have a million different wines to keep track of!), then strolled through the Weindorf towards the Rathaus. Beth was feeling hungry again so she ordered a dish of Schupfnudeln (potato noodles with sauerkraut and bits of ham). We eventually parted ways at the Rathaus U-Bahn station. All in all, it was a lovely evening!