Catch-up Part 3: Welcome to Freiburg

With the aid of a seven hour jump forward in time zones, I arrived in Frankfurt almost a full day after I had left Detroit. I caught a train ticket headed south to Freiburg, where I was to attend an introductory seminar with the nine other internship program participants. Some background: Shortly after Easter, I had received acceptance into the Transatlantic Renewable Energy Exchange (TREE), for which I had applied in winter. The program was federally funded by the German government for American and Canadian university students and recent graduates who wished to work in Germany’s booming renewable energy field. For me, the internship offered the combination of my two educational pursuits; German and what I deemed through my twenty-year aged idealism as merited engineering.


Due to my travelling complications which were mentioned in the earlier post, I had arrived in Freiburg two days before my seminar began, that is to say, two days before my room and board were to be provided. Luckily, my friend Karin, who was participating in a year of study at the University of Freiburg, had agreed to host me for the two unexpected days. Had I not been aware of Karin’s respectable credentials, expectations of such short-noticed hospitality would have been thought naїve. I am, of course, speaking of our shared alma mater and home parish, St. Mary Star of Sea.


After much difficulty and plenty of help from local Freiburgers, I was able to call Karin from a pay phone at the Freiburg Bahnhof, or train station. In no time at all, Karin and I were riding the Straßenbahn, literally street train, through downtown Freiburg on our way to her WG, Wohnen Gemeinshaft, or shared apartment. There I was introduced to Karin’s five mixed male and female Mitbewohner; three native Germans, one Pole, and one native of China. I had just tipped the WG scales in favor of the foreigners.


That night I shared dinner with Karin, her boyfriend Michael, his two older brothers, and his sister-in-law. The three brothers were all students at the University of Freiburg, with the oldest just finishing up his final few months of medical school. They also were all completely fluent in American English, as their Mother is American and always spoke English with them as children. After a delicious meal of pasta salad, curry-beef and rice, accompanied by a local, rather heavy-tasting Rothaus beer, we made our way to see the new Indiana Jones movie, which big surprise, was in English.


The next day, after an exorbidantly long sleep, Karin gave me a brief tour of the city, ending with a walk up to the Schlossberg, a tower ontop of a Hill just outside of the old city walls. The walk ended up being quite the trek, as the trails were also used by the many mountain biking enthusiasts that made Freiburg their adventure destination. When we reached the top of the Schlossberg though, it was clear why these bikers decided on Freiburg. The city was so completely surrounded by hills that you felt, as Karin put it best, hugged by them.


On Saturday morning, Karin and I met up with a friend of hers at the Münster, the present day cathedral that was first begun being built in 1120. Karin's friend, it turned out, had was our own private tour guide, which was really sweet because he seemed to know the young priest who let us behind the altar and into the private chapels and crypts. Yeah, near thousand year-old tombs...the Catholic equivalent of backstage passes.


After finishing the tour, our tour guide suggested an noontime snack, for which he generously offered to pay. Our snack options were myriad, since a bustling market sets up shop Monday through Saturday in the old city, which just happens to have the Münster as its center. There were bread stands and meat stands, fruit stands and vegetable stands. There were stands devoted entirely to asparagus, which in Germany is almost always white due to how it is grown. With all of the English that I had been hearing, I was ready for something classically German, and few things are more German than meals of bread and cheese. In the end, we all shared a half meter long baguette, bleu cheese, and bear's garlic cheese from a French stand. Close enough.


As we sat at an outdoor cafe table, our benefactor filled the conversation with his experiences of having grown up during an divided Germany. He spoke sincerely when expressing gratitude in the US's commitment to rebuilding a vibrant Germany and Europe after the WWII, and the US's further commitment to a democratic Europe during the Cold War. Here, more than my surprise at the ubiquity of English, more than my surrender to a French meal, was what I had been searching for. This was beyond the standard cultural fare. This was personal. This was German.