Louissa Tabolt

everything i was told was wrong.  the city was definitely not completely destroyed during the war and it was on the eastern side of Germany.

i stayed in the strangest flat that made me feel like i had walked into something from the turn of the century (only it was quite warm and the bathrooms were very modern).  the first morning i sat across from the lady while we ate breakfast at the ungodly hour of 6:15 am.  i was served coffee and given no sugar to put in it (it’s more “real” that way though, right?).  conversation was scarce since her english isn’t great and my german doesn’t exist, but we got on as we talked about her family and where i come from.  there was bread and hard boiled eggs (still shelled) for breakfast.  i watched as she took her hard boiled egg and with a quick movement of her butter knife neatly hacked off the top of it.  right after i picked my egg up and tried to do the same.  i guess my egg wasn’t actually a hard boiled egg, but rather a soft boiled egg because instantly the whole shell was cracked and yoke had gone everywhere.  i looked up and smiled as i said, “i guess i’m not very good at that.”

yesterday we sat in Burger King on our way home.  there were a few of us who sat in a corner, eating our fries and telling of first impressions of those here at school.  it was funny and we were all laughing.  one of the workers complained to the director of my school (who was also in charge of the outreach) that she couldn’t even concentrate on her work because of the noise (to be honest, we really weren’t that loud).  he smiled and said, “isn’t it great to have some young dynamic americans here?”