Birthday Bonding

I was invited to a birthday party this past weekend. While perhaps this seems commonplace and trivial to you, for me it was momentous. When you move to a new country and have few friends, the invitation to (any) party brings forth a tidal wave of emotions.

Mainly, it felt good.

So, on Saturday, I went down to the garage of my apartment complex and celebrated the birthday of a 60+ year old woman with her friends and her grandkids. Excluding the small children, my presence brought the average age down at least 25 years.

Inevitably, there weren’t any fräuleins that caught my eye, but that’s alright.

At first, I sat by myself at the end of a picnic table. I drank and ate slowly because I had no idea what to do when I finished my meal. Leave? Eat more? Sit by myself with nothing to do? As I methodically chewed my bratwurst, I watched the friends and family have a good time and thought about how I missed my own friends and family.

Then, slowly, some of my neighbors came to sit with me and we struggled to explain stories, careers, and the new parking plan for the apartment building. My German often failed me, but my neighbors were patient, and we all handled prolonged silences with expertly timed sips of beer.

Even though I spoke a total of 100-300 words that night, I made an awesome memory and helped create a neighborly bond. I’ve been praying for that to happen, and it finally did.

I’m now recommitted and energized to work on my German. Maybe next year, I can be more pro-active, more Cameron-like and wish my neighbor a fantastic birthday without the look of stupidity beaming from my face.