Alice in Germany

On Monday the unthinkable happened - I lost my wallet. Or if you are my insurance company ‘my wallet was stolen’ – Hey! Calm down, how am I to know whether my wallet fell out of my pocket or was pushed?

All I know is I arrived on the bus grasping a carton of eggs in one hand and my open wallet in the other. I flashed my monthly bus ticket at the bus driver and struggled through to the back end of the bus. When I arrived home my wallet did not. I desperately re-run the trip in my mind.

I seated myself next to an expensive old lady dolled out in dead animals; as is the fashion for the over 70s in Kirchenstadt. When interspersed with the general community one doesn’t so much notice this partiality for fur however Bruno and I once stumbled upon a recently arrived bus load of senior citizens. I had the eerie feeling of diving under water only to emerge in an abattoir. When I recount this to Liana she glanced anxiously out the café window as if expecting to see a parade of animal rights protesters covered in the fresh blood of their elderly victims: “they wouldn’t survive 1 hour in London dressed like that”.

I noted the school children across the isle throwing their apple core through the open door nearly hitting alighting passengers and then laughing to each other.

I got off the bus, walked down ‘murderers alley’ past the lake, note the stork has come back and spring must be nearly upon us, past the horse stables, exchange a few words with Nora before she struggles off on her bike. I pause to marvel at her ability to balance a bike while carrying a cloth bag full of beer bottles. Do I have to master this to become German?

That evening when I go to leave the house my wallet in not in my coat pocket where is always is.

I impress myself with my with my rapid progress through the stages of grief:

Denial: ‘must be here somewhere’. In desperation I check the fridge in case I mistook it

some kind of modern ordurve and unpacked it with the rest of the groceries.

Anger: ‘who stole it? The seemingly nice old lady? The school children? A professional

pick-pocket?’

Bargaining: ‘henceforth my coat pocket will remain closed.’

Depression: loosing my wallet has happened too often for me to linger long here.

Acceptance: I go through the agony cancelling my credit debit card and wonder how I will get

my bank in Australia to issue me a new one.

As my monthly bus ticket was in my wallet I ride Bruno’s bike to school the next day. It is too big and (extreme) discomfort drives me to spend as little time sitting on the seat as possible, painfully aware of how silly this looks. In the picturesque areas of town the cobblestones conspire to bang series of little holes through the bike, up to the seat and into my bum.

Straight after class Kristy kindly accompanies me to die place of bus tickets. A middle aged gentleman assists us.

He encourages my halting, grammatically incorrect, largely unclear German in a most heart warming fashion. He is patient when Kristy and I reach for our dictionaries. His tolerance extends as I pretend to not understand that I must pay a 10€ replacement charge, all the while wondering how without wallet I am going to make 10€ materialise. When he goes on to ask difficult questions about cancelling the card the language becomes too difficult for me and he agrees to talk to Bruno on the phone.

Post phone call he goes into a back room and comes back with my monthly ticket. He tells us that as it is valentines day I don’t need to worry about the 10€, gives us both a tulip and wishes us a good day. We leave in a daze wondering what had happened?

To clarify I call Bruno: “he said he was just going to write into the computer that the card was damaged. Apparently he liked you guys”.

I am filled with affection for the Germans.

The lost and found.

Next we go to the city ‘lost and found’. After a wild goose chase involving a scrap of paper, numerous different directions, and 4 flights of stairs we eventually stumble upon the right door and, ironically, the lift.

Here is my wallet! Complete with all contents including all money. I am so happy I have to stop myself jumping the desk and kissing the lady!

Valentines dinner

As my wallet has turned up Bruno and I are able to upgrade our romantic evening from the planned walk in dark, drizzly German wood to dinner in real restaurant with cool waiters and stuff.

In manner of professional makeup wearing girl I expertly apply makeup in 5 minutes (skill learnt in Germany) and leave the house looking quite spiffy. I had told Bruno that as special ‘date’ treat if he wanted to ride the bike I’d sit on the back and wear …. high heals! He said that was OK, we could walk.

So we had a fantastic dinner throughout which I felt quite endeared towards the Germans.

# posted by Alice in Germany @ 3:20 pm