As I'm writing this, I'm sitting in my room, waiting for the Hausmeister (head maintainance guy) to come by. I don't move out until Monday, but when I leave my room it'll be like 6 am...too early for the apartment administration to be on duty. Thus he's gonna check over it now...make sure I didn't break anything or remove any furniture. Oh, there's the doorbell! Must be him.
Yep, Hausmeister was here. Now it's to the apartment director to get my deposit back (hopefully in cash, so I can close out my bank account and not have to wait for a transfer to go through--it's all either electronic or paper transfer here--no checks). Bank's only open for another 3 hours between now and Monday, so I'd better go now.
So, I went to the bank after I said I would. Stood in line for awhile. Remembered I didn't have my passport, and figured they'd ask for it. Left and bought some soy milk instead. Went home and enjoyed my new purchase on some cereal. Yum. Started walking back to the bank, this time with my passport. When I was about halfway there (this isn't exactly a long trip; maybe two minutes) I realized I had no idea what my American bank account and routing numbers were. To transfer my leftover German money to Bank of America, they'd need those for sure. Went back and looked them up. My third try at the bank was a little more successful. The account got closed, but they couldn't do a transfer without leaving the account open. They said I couldn't close it from afar, so I just took the money in cash. This means I've got a nice thin envelope of some very large bills coming back with me to America. Not enough to declare or anything, but let's just hope I don't get mugged in the Köln train station.
I'm starving. I think my rice might be about done. Let's go check!
Yep, by the time I got the kidney beans washed and canned corn drained, the rice was done. I eat that mixture with a healthy dollop of "El Tacqito" salsa, which is really not very good at all and makes me homesick for even the cheapest, least authentically Mexican "American" salsa. Judging from the fact that I keep buying it to put on the bean-corn-rice mixture, however, must mean I think it's better than nothing. I would definitely be up for a visit to Carlos O'Kelly's once I get back; too bad I'll be basically the only HPUMC ex-youth group member in Topeka....
This is Friday of my last week at school. The cookie-handing-out actually started last Tuesday with one class that was cancelled for this week, but it really got going on Monday. Along with cookies, there were murder mystery lessons for the 8-11 grades and a word-paraphrasing/guessing game (think Catch Phrase) for the 7th. I got lots of flowers, lots of cute cards/class pictures, a couple German flags, and some Uni Greifswald paraphernalia from the teachers. For some reason--maybe because it came at the end of a long line of goodbyes, or maybe because it sounded so incredibly sincere--but the goodbye from the principal (with whom I actually had very little to do this entire year) was the one to make me start getting sentimental. The guy has a jolly round face, nice curly gray hair, a big smile, strong handshake, and--like any German worth his weight in greeting cards--has a knack for extended, cordial goodbyes. I tell you, they put the Americans to shame when it comes to making speeches. Everybody--and I mean Hausmeister, stand-in for the apartment director, lady at the bank, not to mention people I actually know--has at the very least wished me a good trip home and all the best for my future. Germans are big on goodbyes and thank yous both, which I guess is why I've gotten so much of this leaving formality. Each goodbye is also a thank you, and each thank you a goodbye.
I've been struggling all year to learn all my students' names, and to be honest, there were a few I could never keep straight. Instead of becoming less important to me as the end approached, however, I become more adamant about making sure I knew who everyone was. For some reason, it seemed important that I remember their names, even after I've left. I guess it's a way of hanging on. A hope that I can go through the seating charts years from now and still picture faces. That when I look at the signed postcards, "Max," "Johann," "Theresa," and "Anna" will mean something more to me than looking at a list of top German baby names.
A couple days ago, or maybe a week, I was sorting out the large stack of extra handouts I had. Mixed in with the worksheets I'd made and texts we'd discussed were my notes for teaching various lessons. It was amazing to compare the most recent with the oldest. At the beginning of the year I wrote down everything for myself, and in considerable detail. More recently, something like "brainstorm on food, part 1 with partner, discuss part 2, write own opinion" was a lot more common. Maybe a couple prompt questions too. And even when I made notes, I often didn't look at them during the lesson at all. One of the best discussions I ever had with Gesine's 11th grade class (second only to the debate on capital punishment) was during a lesson on nationalism that I prepared no more than 10 minutes before class (that wasn't MY fault by the way...I never intentionally cut it closer than half an hour). Anyway, point is, I definitely made progress as a teacher. Or at the very least became more confident.
It's hard to put into words what this experience has been. Perhaps it's telling that I find it so hard to believe that I was here twice as long as I was in Heidelberg--and that, though I'm looking forward to being home for awhile, I never really had a countdown going; I could quite easily extend the stay. September was not long ago at all. But at the same time, when I think about what I've experienced since then, it seems quite a lot. I mean, yeah, it's true: I didn't accomplish everything I wanted to here. I didn't tutor anyone; I didn't make a whole lot of progress in Spanish; I'll be going back with tons of acquaintances, but only a couple real friends. But I'm not unpleased. In fact, I'm still very pleased. Other than a more-than-ideal number of days spent wet and cold, all the memories are good ones. Have I grown as a person in the past year. Yes. I should probably go on a diet when I get back. Have I grown as a spiritual being? Lernte ich besser Justine Greve kennen? Did this experience exceed my expectations and then some? Certainly. No doubt. Ja wohl. So thanks Senator Fulbright... Pädagogischeaustauschdienst... Greifswald... Alex-von-Humboldt. It's been truly awesome.
