Adventures in South Germany

Alright, I know I'm behind on writing since I didn't exactly write about the entirety of my travels to South Germany besides the fact that I fell in love with the people at Pforzheim and now I'm already halfway through my trip to Fritzlar. So let me back-trek a bit. (Left: Beautiful, beautiful Pforzheim. Does this remind anyone of the Sound of Music?)

Pastor Manuel

So the Saturday morning that Rhonda and Christian left to go back to the US, I went on my first travel adventure by myself to Pforzheim, a more rural town in South Germany. Manuel Killisch is an old acquaintance whom I had known of during my undergraduate years when he was at the School of Theology. We didn't know each other all that well besides that we were both involved in music, some kind of ministry and that we had a lot of common close friends.

Anyhow, after he graduated from SOT, he served in Argentina for 2.5 years. As I recall what he told me of the story, he went first mostly just to live and learn the language and culture, teach seminars, and see what was going on with the work there. After about a year, he picked up the Spanish language. He was also invited by the church in Argentina to help revive the Bible school that his grandfather had started years ago. A year ago, the church in Pforzheim invited him to return to Germany to be their pastor. Seeing as the Bible school was doing well, he left and took up the pastorate in Pforzheim.

The Russian-Germans and a brief history of the Eastern European Church of God
One of the last things I got to do before returning to Berlin was to sit and have tea with the Baumgartners, an older couple who had lived in Uzbekistan for 33 years before moving back to Germany in 1989. During that 90 minutes, they gave me a crash course on the history of the Russian-Germans and the history of the Germany and the Eastern European Church of God. So here's as much of that history as I can remember from that crash course.

Way back in the 1700s, the Czar in Russia had opened up the country to anyone who wanted to come, promising free taxes and free land. Because of this, there was a mass movement of Germans flocking to Russia. The Baumgartners (this was way back when, not the couple I had tea with), who had been amongst the first to come into contact with the Gospel Trumpet Company and had been involved with starting the movement in Germany, were amongst some of those who moved to Russia. When they got to Russia, they took the work with them.

However, what the Czar promised, she did not keep. Life was hard for the Germans but still they stayed on. Before long, the Marxist regime took over and life got even harder. Then when the World War happened, the Russians were afraid that the German migrants would be in cahoots with the German military. So they were treated even more harshly and some of them were forced to leave their homes with as much as they could carry in their hands - including their children and all. They were then sent to work in the communes of mass production in areas like Uzbekistan and Krygyzstan.

The Baumgartners that Manuel and I had tea with, he is from Uzbekistan and she from Kazakhstan. (Or maybe it's the other way around, I don't remember...) In 1989 after the fall of the Berlin wall, they returned to Germany for the first time. All their lives they had been looking forward to the day of returning, full of dreams of what the motherland would hold, and always wondering why in the world did their forefathers leave? And upon the return to Deutschland, they realise that there's nowhere that is perfect - there will always be problems anywhere.

This. This is the way to learn history - with homemade cakes and pastries, and a good cup of tea from Uzbekistan.

The funny thing is (and all you feminists out there would enjoy this) - at one point during the conversation, he knocked the cup of tea over and she just shook her head and said, "He's not a woman, that's why he makes a mess." But also, Manuel said she's just a feisty lady to begin with. Some weeks ago, she called to tell him she had some homemade cakes for him and asked him to stop by to pick it up. He was busy that day so he didn't make it over. He got another phonecall the next day... It was her again, asking him to not be lazy and come pick up the cakes. At the door, he was greeted with a slap on his face saying, "You need to not be so lazy."

I guess you just have to be there.

Lovely Folks...

And of course, I have to tell you about the people.

Manuel had asked me earlier in the week if I would be willing to share my story at Youth on Saturday evening. Well, Saturday afternoon when I got there, he told me that Youth that night had been cancelled because there were two bachelor parties going on and others traveling out of town. (Just a quick FYI: In Germany, "Youth Group" refers to the young people 17 and above. The 13-16 year-olds are the Teenies). So instead of the regular youth meeting, we went over to the Church of God nearby in Calw, about 20 minutes away, to hang out at their special youth service. The students from the Bibel Schule in Fritzlar were there that weekend for the special youth service on Saturday night and baptism on Sunday.

That night, I met Maureen (whom I only found out yesterday that her father was the pastor in Barcelona, Spain, whose name I've heard a lot because of my job at Global Missions) and Veronica. As it turns out, Maureen wasn't about to be the last of these cross-cultural people I was going to meet. (Left: Maureen)

Before we left Calw on Saturday night, Manuel introduced me to Sanna who was going to be my host and translator while Manuel was being Pastor the next morning. Sanna's parents were amongst the group of Russian-Germans as well. As were Luzi, who hosted me the few days I was there, and her husband. And Luzi and I got along great. Her father was one of the pastors in Pforzheim but had "retired" fairly recently and now focuses on ministry with the older generation, especially those like the Baumgartners. Oh for the record, you heard me right. Paul (Luzi's dad) is retired, but if you know anything about ministry, you probably already realise you never really retire until the day you're lying 6 feet under (unless of course, you live in Singapore, to which I mean "until the day you're stuck in an urn in the wall somewhere"). [And while we're at it, before you ask me anymore questions about Arthur Kelly, yes, I know he's "retired" to Oregon, but no I have no idea what he's doing besides hanging out with John and Gwen. And yes, "hanging out" can be ministry too, thank you very much.]

Sorry, I got distracted.

Because Luzi grew up as a Pastor's Kid, she understood what I meant when I started talking about wanting to work with missionaries and their families. [If you want to know more about this, you're going to have to buy me coffee or dinner and be willing to sit down for a while.]

And then there was Jonathan and Kristine. Sunday after church, and after the Family Day, we stayed around for lunch and fellowship, and then the big football match against England that afternoon. The thing that impressed me was that church was over at around noon, but the match didn't start till 4pm. Any other church I've been to, people would have stayed around for a bit of fellowship and of course, have lunch. If they were interested in watching the game at church, they would probably go home and have a quick nap or change before coming back to the church. But no, at this church, people ate, hung out and had cake and coffee until it was game time. (Above left: Watching football)

Well, during this time, I got to hang out with Jonathan, Kristine and their kids, Jamie and Kian. Jonathan's originally from Oregon but had moved to Germany after high-school. I don't remember where everything fits, but somewhere on the timeline, he and Kristine got married, he went to Fritzlar for a couple years in answering the call to ministry, then went back to Warner Pacific for some time so Kristine could get the study-abroad experience as well since she was going to be an English teacher back in Germany, and then served as the pastor of families in Pforzheim for a few years. It wasn't too long before he got burnt out with ministry and left the church in Pforzheim. I don't know if it was merely coincidence or if again, Manuel had told them I was going to be there, but the Sunday I met them was the first time they had been back at the church for two years. Beautiful, beautiful family. (Above right: Jamie and his Opa playing volleyball with the youth group and Pastor Manuel)

And then there was Natascha. Apparently Manuel had told her to get connected with me while I'm here, and that I would be sharing my story at youth that Saturday evening. But since we ended up going to Calw instead, Manuel found her at half-time during the Germany-England game and told her if she didn't talk to me now, she may not have another chance. I was bewildered because I didn't know what Manuel thought I had to offer her, especially because I don't know half of what I'm doing most of the time either. But we chatted for a few minutes and she said she was bummed I wasn't going to stick around till the next Saturday so she could hear my story at the next youth meeting. So instead, we went out for coffee and ice-cream on Monday.

If there's something I've learnt from the Germans, there's NEVER a bad time for coffee or ice-cream. May I always remember that... Not so much for the coffee or the ice-cream, but for the stories I get to join with even for just a few brief moments during this time. Come to find out, we have so much in common with our stories, being at similar crossroads and trying to figure out what's next in our journey.

Alright, I'm tired of writing, so here are a few more silly pictures...

We went out for ice-cream after the game on Sunday and this was the madness that ensued after that. You can't see her in the picture, but one of the girls is playing My Heart Will Go On on the piano accompanied by Luzi (far left on the chair) with her son and Pastor Manuel on the viola.

And this is Julia's victory dance after Deutschland defeated England.

And just in case you wondered if I've disappeared into the words on my blog... No, I'm still very much alive.

Love you all.

Thomas Merton Prayer

All day today I've been asking God, I didn't come here to fall in love with these people, so what makes you think it's ok to let that happen? And then I realised, that IS really why I came here. But still it didn't make me feel any better.

I'm still looking for answers, trying to find direction. Over coffee with Natascha on Monday, I found what I had to say to her to probably be more true for myself than for her. But ich weiss nicht. It's ok to not know.

So I leave you with this prayer that an older, wiser friend of mine shared.

And on an unrelated note, I hope the recent change in background didn't throw anyone off. Also, someone just pointed out to me that they can't comment here. I just fixed that tonight, so have at it if you would like.

On that note, here's Thomas Merton...
MY LORD GOD, I have no idea where I am going.
I do not see the road ahead of me.
I cannot know for certain where it will end.
Nor do I really know myself, and the fact that I think that I am following your will does not mean that I am actually doing so.
But I believe that the desire to please you does in fact please you.
And I hope I have that desire in all that I am doing.
I hope that I will never do anything apart from that desire.
And I know that if I do this you will lead me by the right road though I may know nothing about it.
Therefore will I trust you always though I may seem to be lost and in the shadow of death.
I will not fear, for you are ever with me, and you will never leave me to face my perils alone.

- Thomas Merton, "Thoughts in Solitude"

I Didn't Mean to Fall in Love

I'll be honest. I didn't come to Germany thinking I would fall in love with this place. Mostly because it's Europe and it's overly-romanticised. Or at least, I didn't think I'd be more in love with it than with Atlanta, or Portland or New York. But I think I might have fallen. And fallen hard.

I've already mentioned in a previous entry how much I love Berlin. The last few days in Pforzheim helped me realise another small part of why I love it - there are enough culturally mixed-up people there for me to feel at home. We don't always speak the same language, but we all find one way or another to communicate with the next person we meet on the streets.

And the big city. We already know what my heart feels about the big city. I don't know if I'm the only slow one that JUST realised the places I really fell in love with are all the big cities. And falling asleep to the sounds of the city right outside my window. And sidewalks and public transport. I thought Berlin really spoke my language.

Then I came to Pforzheim. And my heart is being stirred in a way I had not expected at all. Quite frankly, when Kelley, Rhonda, Aaron and I were talking about the possibility of me coming down here to hang out for a few days while they are in the US, I didn't think too much about it. Sure it would be great to reconnect with Manuel, an old acquaintance from AU who now pastors the church here, and to see how they do church here.

But then I had to meet Luzi, Sanna and Natascha, all of whom are descendents of Germans who had migrated to Russia years and years ago. They are the second or third generation to move back to Germany from Russia, so they talk a little bit about this identity crisis thing that they go through as a result of that.

If you know anything about what kept me sane at my office job before coming to Germany, you would know it's the missionaries and especially their children. And if you know about my fascination with Smeagol from the Lord of the Rings trilogy, you would know my fascination with people who go through this identity crisis thing.

But mostly because I identify with them, having crossed culture at a fairly young age myself. I carry with me pieces from two different worlds (and now three) that don't always mesh well together. And I often find myself at a place where I'll always be considered an outsider. I may have grown up in Singapore and carry a Singaporean passport. But I don't really belong there anymore because I left, and I'll always be considered a banana because to them - I may be yellow on the outside, but I'm white on the inside (even if that may not be true). And I definitely don't look like an Anglo, so I'll never really belong in the United States (and besides, I don't actually think like most people in at least the Midwest do).

In the last three days here in Pforzheim, I've just spent a lot of time talking to (and watching football of course) people here in the church. Natascha and I sat at a cafe for a few hours yesterday sharing our stories and I found myself close to tears on a few occasions just remembering things. Luzi and I chatted for a while till fairly late last night and again I felt something moving in my soul.

Other than Manuel, these are all people I'm meeting for the first time, but already I feel like I've known them forever. And if I'm honest with myself, I haven't felt my soul stirring like that in a long time and I miss this feeling. It feels like the rain of mercy is finally falling on the parched land of my heart and I woke up this morning with a great heaviness thinking, God, what are you doing to my heart now? I can't fall in love with this place since I'm leaving tomorrow morning.

Later today, Manuel will be visiting an older Russian-German couple from the church who are amongst the group that came back from Russia and I'll get to tag along. I'll be honest. I know how I guard myself when I'm afraid of falling in love then having to say goodbye. But I don't want to deprive myself from laughing or crying wholeheartedly when I'm spending time with this couple.

You can't win, can you? Sigh.

I really didn't mean for this entry to get so personal, but somehow it did. Hey, if you're the praying type, would you say a prayer for me?


Deutschland Fussball!
On a lighter note (and also relating to my newfound love for this place), Deutschland made it to the quarter-finals of the World Cup after a spectacular game against England! After the dirty playing by Brazil and Argentina, I guess the only favourite I have left is Deutschland since Uruguay took South Korea out. I've always enjoyed a good football game, but there's nothing like watching it with a group of Germans who not only really appreciate the game and have their own "fight songs" (and no vuvuzelas), but also have a good team to root for.

Something else that I had a conversation with someone in Berlin about (I think it might have been Aaron, but I don't remember)... The German flag is never flown around here unless it's World Cup season. And there is a sense of the German pride returning after cowering in shame for the last sixty years trying to make amends for the Second World War.

They say football brings the world together. Even in the trash-talking on Facebook with people I haven't talked to in a long time, there's still that sense of we're doing something together regardless of what time-zone you live in. And especially because at least amongst my friends who are football fans, trash-talking on Facebook becomes the love-language around World Cup season.

Alright, I hope your Tuesday is terrific, my friends. And since I can't pick between the teams playing today, I'm just going to root for fair referees and good sportsmanship.

Love you all.

Greetings from Pforzheim!

Really quickly...

Today's my last full day in Pforzheim where I've just spent the last three days hanging out with people from the church here. It's been a long while since I've gotten emotional about people, ministry or spiritual things. I'm not sure what it is about the people I've met so far but I keep finding myself getting teary-eyed talking to them. And after only three days of soul conversations with a bunch of different people from the church, I don't want to leave.

I should probably get ready for breakfast, but I'll write more soon.