So, apparently the French don’t think we are that snobby, as they have turned into our “first friends” in Germany. Ends up that Mrs. French is actually German! However, the three children were born in France and the family moved to Freiburg eleven years ago to ensure that the kids learned adequate German, in addition to their French. Of course, they are also working on English.
Several days after we moved into the flat, Joe and I were walking back from town and saw Mrs. French/German at our building door, trying to ring us upstairs. We walked up behind her and said hello. She said that she owned “the best map of Freiburg” and wanted to know if we were interested in having a copy! She showed us why it was such a great map, but said that she has to go to a special shop to get one and they are often sold out. However, she was on her way to the magazine shop today and would look for one for us! Of course we were interested, but more surprised than anything else to see her again.
Almost two weeks passed and there was no word from Mrs. French/German. Now, it is close to the end of September and Joe and I are struggling to install some light fixtures in the rooms. You see, the entire building is made of cement, making drilling quite difficult, on top of the fact that we had heard from others that the electrical wires are easily drilled into behind the walls/ceilings! Joe did some research online regarding the electricity, and we continued to function as best we could with flashlights, but were in a bind since the tools and electricity sensors were in the household goods shipment that had not arrived yet. The only thing we could think of was to ask the French….the only people we know!
We sent an e-mail on Monday. Mrs. French called on Tuesday. On Wednesday the entire family came to the flat! Mr. French looked at the lighting with Joe and said that he had some tools we could borrow for the project. Mrs. French/German brought the map and would not let us reimburse her for it. On Thursday our household goods finally arrived! In the midst of all the chaos, the middle French daughter showed up at the door. She had come to take Liv for a walk! Liv was grateful – I had trepidations. For those of you that know Liv…and me…and our walking situation….you understand my concern. But what was I supposed to do? Say to an adolescent who barley speaks English, “Well, the dog is only 15 pounds, but she thinks she is 150 pounds, so if you see another dog she will want to attack it. Your choices are to run the other way, or pull the leash like this and give her this command, and spray with the squirt bottle”? Doubtful. I handed over the dog and the squirt bottle and said, “If she acts bad, just tissss……tissss (miming how to spray her with the bottle). Off they went. They both returned unscathed. Poor girl even had to pick up poop. I wonder what part of the trash she put it in?
Later that night, after the movers had left, Mr. French showed up! He had two hands full of tools!
Fast-forward to Sunday. It is a three-day weekend for the Germans. Around 10:30am Joe receives a text on his phone….all in German! The only way that we know it is for us is becayse it starts with: Hi Trysta and Joe. Thanks to iTranslate it reads: Hi Trysta and Joe, would you come with us for Soup Festival at the Municipal Theatre today eat together by 13 clock to lunch there? Best regards. It is Mrs. French/German! I called her and we scheduled to meet in front of our building at 1300.
The rest of the afternoon was filled with laughs with the French! They took us to the theater, which was hosting the Soup Festival. Each of the International clubs in Freiburg had a table, which boasted a traditional soup served in an edible bowl! Mr. French pulled seven glasses out of his backpack and an unmarked bottle of “New Wine”, which is the juice from the first press of grapes. Apparently it has a really high CO2 content, so consumption must be monitored for fear of headaches, and the top must not be wound tightly, or else the gas from the fermentation that is still in progress will cause it to explode! He also pulled a cheesecake out of his pack. Like Mary Poppins! Despite the challenges in languages, humor was strongly present. The edible bowls were likened to communion wafers, so that made a good laugh several times over about “eating our prayers”. Mr. French said that he had brought “desert”, and we laughed about the nuances of eating “desert” and “dessert”.
Then, we walked for ice cream and up the Schlossberg (Freiburg’s foothill to the Black Forest) and to the Kanonenplatz, which overlooks the entire town. This is about an hour and a half worth of walking and talking. Mrs. French/German and I discussed education a lot. The youth of Germany only go to school until 1:00pm, after which they are supposed to engage in their “hobbies”. Well, the government is trying to change this because the kids are sitting behind computers and game counsels, instead of actually partaking in extra-curricular activities. She also told me about the challenges that many teachers face in terms of parental-involvement (mainly non-involvement) and their apathy towards supporting the education of their children. Interesting: same problems, different country.
I explained to her the similar challenges that I have faced as an educator working in the inner-city. Mrs. French/German then posed the most interesting question: Why do they call it “inner-city”? Excellent question, which I could not answer. She pointed out that it actually has nothing to do with location within the city, as the challenging parts of town are often on the outer rims. True, true, I never thought about the literal translation of “inner-city”. I tried to explain that “inner-city” is really just a label for a collection of particular challenges- poverty, inequity of educational resources, crime, etc. The achievement gap and all its contributing factors, simplified. She understood everything, except the rationale behind the name. Same for me.
When we finally returned home, over three hours later, the children walked home to their flat, and Mr. & Mrs. French/German came upstairs to our place. Once inside, Mary Poppins style again, Mr. French took a jar of blackberry jam out of his backpack for us! “This is for you!” Mrs. French/German helped me solve the very important question of: Where does one get furniture besides IKEA? I told them my maiden name was Malm and then Mr. French proceeded to have a good laugh at my expense. In essence, he called me the “princess of IKEA” and mimed me lying on the beds enjoying my territory. It was pretty funny, especially with his accent and broken English, compensated for with elaborate gestures. He and Joe continued to work on the lighting dilemma, and when an extra piece of wood was needed, he went home to his cellar and returned later to complete the job! Voilà! As he was leaving, he asked Joe to watch a rugby game at the pub with him in a few weeks.
Needless to say, we are in the process of trying to thank the French for their generosity of gifts, information, and most importantly – humor! Five hours of unpacking time was well wasted with our new friends.