The first time I went to Germany was in 1987. I was 17 years old, and had been selected to be a exchange student. I had studied German for three years in school. but honestly had not been the best student, so my knowledge of the language was weak, at best. It was both an exciting prospect and, quite honestly, terrifying. I would be gone for an entire year, missing my senior year of high school, and having very little contact with my family and friends during that time. This was, of course, long before e-mail and the Internet were heard of really, and even home computers were not very common, at least in Ohio where I lived. So, the idea of going incredibly far away to live with complete strangers who spoke a foreign language seemed unreal. Yet there I was, exiting an airplane in Bremen after a very long and exhausting flight. Having never travelled abroad before, with the exception of a brief trip to the Bahamas with my family in 1982, I had no idea what was expected of customs or passport control. I blindly followed the other passengers through this process, nervously answering questions from the German officials. When I finally got through this, I went through a door which led to the domestic area of the airport. There were quite a few people waiting for other passengers here, so I quickly started looking around for the people who were going to be my host family. They had sent a picture to me, and I was anxious to finally meet them. But, I slowly realized that they were not there. Instead, a middle aged man approached me, asked my name, showed me some paper work and explained that he was from the Rotary Club in the town where I would be living, and that I was to go with him since my host family had been unable to change their vacation plans to accomodate my arrival. I would be staying with his family until they came to get me. Wow... In retrospect, I can't believe I went off with this guy, but I did, and luckily, he was legit. But I was too tired and confused to think about what was going on, as well as being upset that my host family hadn't bothered to write or call to warn me that they would not be the ones meeting me at the airport. I don't think I ever quite got over that feeling of resentment, you know how teenagers can be.
So, I left the airport with this Herr Janssen guy. Turns out he was also some type of official at the school that I would be attending. I would end up having numerous run-ins with him over the next few months and years. But he was a nice enough person there at the beginning. He and his wife tried their best to make me comfortable at their home for the next 2 days until my host family arrived. The Janssen's son was not quite so friendly, as I recall, and was also quite stand-offish, perhaps snobby, at school, as well. But I no longer remember his name, so it obviously did not matter much to me at the time. Once I arrived at my new home with my host family, I went about trying to get settled in, and was anxious to explore the community and start meeting people. I had a pretty nice bedroom, with a balcony overlooking the back yard. The parents seemed nice, as was the younger sister. Their son was off at college, I met him a few weeks later. He had been an exchange student in the USA a couple years earlier, and seemed like an interesting and fun guy.
But back to my first day with my new family. When I went to take a shower the first time, I could not find anything that resembled soap. There was a bottle of something that I thought might be shampoo, it was labeled Spülung, which I though sounded sort of like the word for cleaning, spülen, so I assumed it might be shampoo or soap. Turns out that it was conditioner, shampoo is actually called Shampoo and soap is Seife. Needless to say, I didn't feel very successful, or clean, after this attempt at showering. So, I dressed and went to ask my host mother if I could go purchase some items. She showed me a bike and told me I could ride into town to get what I needed, and that the younger sister would go with me. Turns out sis just wanted to hang with her friends. She showed me the way to town, pointed toward a store and wandered off to talk to some other kids. I had a few Deutschmarks that I had gotten back in the states, so I wandered in and took an incredibly long time trying to figure out what was what. I then had to wait around for a while until the sis was ready to head back home. She was 14 at the time, I think, and at 17 I felt like I had very little in common with such young children. that combined with my serious lack of comprehension of the language really made me feel awkward and out of place. Eventually, she and I would become friends, but it took quite a while for that to happen.
Meanwhile, what I really wanted was a bank so that I could exchange and deposit my American traveler's cheques. But it was a Saturday, I believe, or mid-afternoon, and banks were not open. My host mother took me to a bank near our home soon thereafter, and next I was being registered at the school, given a schedule and a brief tour. Next she took me to a book store to buy my school books and supplies, all of which seemed rather pricey. We Americans are far too used to having most of those expenses covered by the schools, with school supplied books. On the other hand, the books were smaller and lighter than what I was used to, so it meant less of a hassel to tote around in a backpack, especially since I soon discovered that I would be riding that crazy bike to school. They don't have school buses in Germany, much to my surprise. The first day of school was just a few days after my arrival, so this was all a whirlwind of activity for me. I felt very overwhelmed by everything, and incredibly nervous about the first day of school in my new hometown...
Next - Gymnasium Ulricianum in Aurich