Off the Map

A Long Chat at the Wine Bar [Dark Walk Home]

So the other night I ended up with 2 Americans and 2 Brits at a cozy/chic Wine Bar in Regensburg. Sitting in a pillowed alcove next to a log fire with some good White in hand, fresh tapas on the table, and no where to be was a revitalizing experience. Although we've got it good, being an exchange student can wear on you in ways one would never imagine: the overall lack of expectations for one's work and sense of impermanence with one's newly acquired friends makes you feel, well, dispensable. No one really needs you, and no one really expects anything from you. If I just picked up and went to Morocco for a week and didn't tell anyone, it wouldn't matter. No, seriously! I'm thinking about trying it next semester, just to prove my point. Granted, that is a nice sense of freedom - as long as you have the necessary financial resources...

What was I saying again? Oh, right: My 4 friends that evening are all people I've come to know here in Regensburg (5 Months Today!), so there's not a lot of history between us. Despite that, all 5 of us are exchange students and consequently going thru the same experiences, facing the same challenges, and share some common interests. Though I don't see them half as often as my German friends, I feel a much deeper connection. The Germans here are here for the long haul - another interesting note, as Germans tend not to move house nearly as often as we Americans. This means that for most, once you buy a house you stay. Your whole life. Maybe your kids too. Moving is the worst thing for many a German, as it means the dissolution of one's social network and separation from family and loved ones. Why is German unemployment much higher than that of the States? One significant reason: They won't relocate for work as easily as we will, limiting the flexibility necessary for efficient capitalism. Job loss and living on the dole can be preferable to a heart-wrenching move.

But I digress. So the Germans are permanent, and though very nice and fun and helpful, they've got things to do, friends they've known their entire lives, and family responsibilities (like going home EVERY weekend). What does this mean for me and any other exchange student? Its hard to develop really meaningful relationships with the locals. The Germans I'm closest with are all Americanized in some way or another (either they've lived there, are going there, or are in love with the States) - not something I've sought out, but rather something that developed very naturally due to their special intrest.

The point of all this being that whittling away an evening with my friends at that Wine Bar was much more fulfilling than it should have been. Lounging around debating everything from Darwin to Dating (yes, we really did discuss evolution!) was wonderful! No more routine conversations about what state in America I come from (and then "Do you Ski?" No. And I'm sorry that I live in Boulder and don't ski. Get over it.). No more sweeping questions about whether I like Bush or not. No more questions about what my major is and how long I'm staying. No more feeling like an object from some 3rd Grade Show 'n' Tell, being introduced to a whirlwind of new people with names I can't pronounce and faces I won't recognize when they wave at me 2 weeks later on some side street.

On a darker note, while walking home at 3 in the morning from this evening out, I decided to take a slightly longer, but previously unexplored route (a decision spurred by my thoughtful mood, I'm sure). Unknowing where exactly I was, I ended up cutting thru what used to be the grounds of a sprawling church and large Insane Asylum. The whole scene was rather unnerving, with labyrinth court yards, spiraling towers, and incongruent architecture. In the heart of the complex, I stumbled upon a plaque attached next to an old gate, dedicated to 630 Women who died there in either experiments or as a result of poor treatment (during the Nazi era, perhaps? It was too dark to tell.). While reading, the lone tree in the small courtyard was rustling in the wind, serving as background noise for the hurried dripdrip coming from some neglected pipe. The 3AM scene was very disquieting - a swallowing feel of too much history and too much death.

posted by Jason @ 1:56 am