My knees were shaking from the combination of a nine hour flight and my nerves. I looked around desperately for something recognizable to me. As if I could find something comforting among the people loudly speaking German and the group of Japanese tourists next to me. I finally made my way to the baggage claim. Why did every single person on this flight have the same shade of green suitcase as mine? After spending about fifteen minutes watching the suitcases go by and starting to panic, I finally realized I was standing in the wrong place. But, once I had my bag I wasn't sure that I wanted to have it. I had to make my way to my first moment of truth. I was being picked up by my boyfriend's Mum and sister and meeting them for the first time.
The first person I saw was the man I grew to claim as my Opa. Then I saw my new sister and my boyfriend's Mum. I'm pretty sure I hugged them and managed a smile that came out as more of a grimace. I'm also fairly certain that I was able to refrain from hysterical nervous laughter. Added together, I counted that as a win. I was so terrified and sleep deprived I felt like my surroundings had been set to spin. In an airport in a foreign country you don't need help becoming disoriented but every last detail piled up. Lara was speaking English to me and then German to her mother. Rosa (my boyfriend's Mum) was speaking German to Lara, occassional English to me, and Spanish to her father. My German was limited, my Spanish was rusty, and frankly, 6am on the other side of the world when my head wanted to think it was midnight and time to crawl in bed... well, that was making me unable to speak English. Not only did I not know where I was, I couldn't understand a bloody thing that was being said.
That airport is gigantic. No, gigantic doesn't even come close enough to describing it. They are not kidding when they call it an "airport city." And oh blessed airplane airconditioning I was so sorry to leave you! I would of course travel to Germany in the middle of one of their hottest summers. As soon as we started walking down the eight thousand mile hallway to find what level of hell they had parked on I had two very urgent questions. My first question was, "Who the hell packed my suitcase with all this crap?" and the second question was, "Am I sweating as much as I think I am?" The answers were of course "You did you idiot," and "No, not unless I am leaving puddles behind me." I did check and there did not appear to be puddles behind me so I think I was safe. Stench on the other hand, could have been questionable.
I was pondering if anyone would notice if I leaned on my suitcase to dry-heave for a moment when I had another question pop into my head. How on earth do you tell a 78 year old man that you can pull your own suitcase? Two years of of Spanish in high school and I'm trying to prevent my new grandfather from having a heart attack and all I can remember how to say is "shampoo." Who says you don't learn anything in high school? Sadly I cannot blame high school for my inability to tell Rosa in German, "I'm delighted to meet you but so nervous and jetlagged I think I may throw up." It's a pity.
We finally made it to an elevator. But oh, they forgot to pay for parking so off they went. I remained by the elevator and cooked in the heat while I waited. When they returned and we made our way through the vehicles I started to feel like I was going to pass out. "NOT NOW! NOT NOW! NOT NOW! NOT NOW!" I screamed to my brain. I don't know if it was my prayers, the verbal assault I had given my brain, or a combination but somehow I made it to the vehicle. Ever since last year at about this time I have become a tremendous fainter and I have no idea how I managed to get through the heat and nerves that wanted to pull me down that day. If I had known what was about to happen I think I would have opted to faint. We were on the 11th (or 1011th?) floor of a garage and began what felt as a descent into hell. I'm pretty sure going down that ramp involves completely cutting your wheel. It is a one-way spiral of puke. If I had seen a similiar setup on a rollercoaster when I was nine I would have jumped for joy. As a 23 year old in an SUV who already feels like throwing up... I almost peed myself. If I hadn't just gotten off a nine hour flight that was determined to feed the passengers meals that resembled dog food - I would have vomited. My frustration at Lufthansa food ended the second I started blessing my empty stomach. While Lara and her mother bickered about something in German I put my head down on my lap and I will admit it, dry heaved. Thankfully I am a puking professional and managed to retch without much noise. I am confident about this because I feel they would have teased me by now.
I don't think the sun has ever been as bright as it was that morning. Fishing out my sunglasses from my carry-on would have made far too much sense so I simply squinted at my surroundings. I was so relieved to see so much countryside. Wheat fields have never looked as beautiful as they did to this country girl who was terrified her boyfriend would find Maine too rural. After dropping Opa off at his darling little house with the front lawn covered in gnomes and getting my first (of many!) Oma hugs, we finally were within minutes of my boyfriend's house. I was anxious to get settled in. Christian hadn't gone to the airport because he had a final that he needed to take but had promised to be back as soon as possible.
I stared in wonder at the two dozen little brown rabbits that dashed across the lawn in front of me as I started toward the house. I thought I was hallucinating. Good job Katie, some people see purple elephants and all you can conjure up are little itty bitty bunnies! I later found out that these small rabbits are Germany's pest animal (and I would see them and photograph them everywhere) but man, nothing compares to the confusion I felt at that moment. But then I was finally inside. I was fussed and fretted over but only requested a glass of water to take my medicine with. They walked me downstairs and I collapsed on the bed. The window was opened and the lights were shut off as they left me to nap. Unsuspecting, I took a big gulp of water as I reached for my pills. "Poison!" my brain informed me as I desperately looked for a place to spit it out. I hadn't specified that I wanted "plain water" so I had been given a lovely glass of sparkling water. My poor American mouth had never had water's salty and carbonated friend before. I found Christian's pitcher of normal water and washed away the evil aftertaste. Finally I grabbed a pillow and stretched out for my nap. I looked up at the ceiling for a moment before I closed my eyes. "I love you Kathryn," the post-it note said. "You'd better!" I thought as I grinned and rolled over, trying once again not to throw up.
Once when I had flown overnight to England (no sleep), been on a bus for an hour, been on a train for two hours, and then walked 12 miles, I was so befuddled I poured the tea from the teapot into the cream pitcher instead of into my cup.... My hostess was quite nice about it.
ReplyDeleteAnd once in Iceland, after brushing my teeth, I tried rinsing with white gas instead of water.
So, I'm sympathetic.
This piece feels all of a piece, if I can put it that way. The tone is right for the material; the material is handled with just the right note of gentle self-mockery; nothing is left unexplained; the travel material integrates seamlessly with the KH material; the humor never takes itself too seriously and allows us to enjoy it without feeling obliged to rotflol.
You said in your email that you decided that this didn't need a wrap-it-up ending, and I agree completely. This is the way to end, the place to stop--the blessed release of sleep.