The Longest Day

Today has been a lazy day. I woke up at one this afternoon, and with good reason. I'll tell you why in a minute. Today we went to a public pool to wake up which was actually a public waterpark with slides and everything made by the Nazi government. It was very nice, although I only spent five minutes in the pool. We came back home to lie around more, then walked to dinner at a local Italian restaurant. It is raining now, and the rest of the family is downstairs watching the soccer game. I bet Ramon two euros that the Netherlands would beat Portugal, but I think that I might lose my money. I am learning many things here. The one that I learned today is never bet on a soccer match with a european teenage boy that watches games all the time. The other I learned yesterday. German beer only comes in one size: Big.

Ramon's friend came to pick us up for the game 3 hours early as I had anticipated. We got there 20 minutes after the square had opened and there were already more than 2,000 people there. As the game would wear on, more and more people would show. The three of us grabbed half of a table. We were surrounded by a sea of orange, black, and red flags, and white jerseys. The people were already excited and yelling and the game was still over two hours away. This picture was taked fromt eh only place with open space left in the square, the food tent.


When Ramon went to get lunch he found Thomas, who likes to be called Tom, at a table closer to the screen. Some of the girls at his table wanted to meet the American, so of course I obliged.

The table was jam-packed with people, all of whom were Tom's friends, come for the party. And it was quite a party. People were singing and dancing on the tables to the booming music, all while waving German flag. hey have special chants that go like "ole, ole, ole, ole, ole, ole, ole, - ole, ole, ole, ole, ole, - super Deutschland, superdeutschland, super deutschlandle Ole!" and countless others. That was just one of the few that I picked up. I had a Rattler with a lunch of bratvurst, which is half lemonade and half beer. Both were quite good. The whole time I was yelling to talk with Thomas, my new friends, and of course, the girls. When I was finished, Tom went with me to go get us some real beer. It turns out that they only had one size there for beer, and rattlers too: One liter each. That is a lot of beer.This is Tom and I back at the table with our prizes.


The thing on my cheek is the German flag that one of the girls asked to draw.

Then the game started. All of the Germans stood up on the table to sing the national anthem along with the players on the screen, then waved their flags in the air and cheered. Less than ten minutes into the game Deutschland scored. The crowd went wild. A deafaning roar rang through the square with hands fling in the air, people jumped up on the table again and started more German chants. The explosion lasted for a minute before people settled back down. By this time I was seriously feeling the effects of so much beer, so I gave the rest, which was not much, of my second beer to Tom, who gladly accepted. Then I went to go get some pretzels to help make my feet more steady because I knew that I had a long day ahead of me and I didn't want to make a fool of myself in front of girls that I had just met. Tom on the other hand, was fine with this, and had five beers at the game.

Germany won the game 2-0, which was quite exciting. Tom and I left with Ramon and his friend, thinking that we would meet the girls again later that night. I ended up making it, but with all of that beer, Tom had a last minute appointment with his bed that night.

Because Germany won, there of course had to be celebration, so we all hopped in the car, and with flags flying out of the windows. We drove around town five times with every German in town either in the streets or in their car honking their horn and yelling. We were all yelling "OOOOIIIIII!!! FUR DEUTSCHLAND!" The best Tom could manage was the "oi" part.



After the fifth round, Ramon and I got out of the car and walked to the park for the fire. It turns out that it was a German boy and girl scout event, which is why Franz's daughter is in that outfit in the earlier post. Here is a picture of Franz and his wife Barbara.

The Scouts here are Catholic and this is some sort of Catholic holiday. It is an enourmous fire that they light every year and call it the Johannes Fire. I think that I understood their German that it is celebrating a saint, but I am not sure. I had a german dinner of more bratvurst and my fifth pretzel of the day. They generally do not have normal water to have with food here, only bubbly water, apparently out of tradition because all of the normal water in Germany was bad after World War II. Also, I saw Monica, who was busy doing stuff for the fire.The pile of wood that they were going to burn was as big as a small house.

Before the fire was lit, I was invited into a tent for Catholic mass and skits and games. Before that started, I started talking with a counselor that Franz introduced me to and soon had everyone on our side of the tent laughing. They are very good people. It was very special. Everyone sang together to Franz son playing the guitar, and there was a skit of a German girl trying to give a Spanish tourist directions to square where we saw the game. I could sympathize with the guy. Then we went outside to start the fire.


People stood right outside of the caution tape as the fire was lit, but as the fire grew and the fireman stationed there began to work, people had to step back with the heat. It was all very enjoyable, but Ramon got a phone call and it was off to meet friends at a bar after saying our goodbyes.

Ramon and I met Mate from the day before, and Danny from the soccer game hours before, as well as some of the girls. After watching Argentina beat Mexico in overtime, we went to Amadeus, the local nightclub. Danny is a very funny guy, and can speak English very well. He friends call him Proleit which means of teh proletariot. In other words, his is the stereotypical German guy of the 21st century. He drinks a lot, can hold his beer, is short and stocky, talks too loud, loves his country, and always wears muscle shirts. He likes the name. This is him when the party really got started.


Although I thought otherwise, one cannot get into nightclubs until one in 18 here, because they serve hard drinks, and you must be 18 for those. Fortunately for me, a combination of American Driver's License and good numbers for my birthday let me in. In Europe, they switch month and day around in numbers. So my birthday, 11/2/88, became February 11, 1988 rather than November 2, 1988, which it is. So now I'm 18.

We got there at 11, which is early for a club that stays open till 5 Am, and things were slow. However, after midnight things exploded. There were some of the girls from the soccer game and more. I didn't have a drink because of earlier in the day. I met lots of new people, most of whom could not believe that I had only been speaking German here for three days. Some of teh guys were celebrating abirthday and had opened a bottle of champagne to better celebrate and reminisce how ell Germany had played.

Strangely enough, they played Rock music in the bar. All that we dance to in California is rap. The music was good, so we went to dance floor and danced with the girls. Apparently American dancing is very racy. Although I did not see it there, I thought it was all the same. It was not a bad thing. My new friends were impressed at how much the girls liked it. ManI had fun. Ramon and I left shortly after the girls did, at 2 in the morning, and walked home.

Man I love Germany. Or maybe independence. Probably both. I miss my family and friends, but I am not homesick. I like it here and am happy. German school starts tommorrow and it is Late once again. I owe Ramon two euros.

Did I mention that I am having fun?