Return from Europe

During spring break 1988, I went with other students and parents and my German teacher to four German-speaking countries: Austria, West Germany, Switzerland, and Liechtenstein. The following is part of a series of travel journal excerpts. Keep in mind: a teenager wrote this.

Here’s a stein like many we saw at tourist shops.

4/4/1988

It’s all over now. I’m at home, in my room — neither a hotel room nor even my little attic room in Switzerland, but home. I feel exhausted… but melancholy about returning to Indiana.

This morning, as we traveled to the Frankfurt airport, Heinz made his final farewell… though perhaps I shouldn’t call it that. He said, “In German we do not say good-bye or farewell. In some hope that perhaps, somehow, somewhere, or some time, we might meet again, we say ‘auf Wiedersehen.’”

After we arrived at O’Hare International Airport in Chicago, perhaps I should have lied at Customs, although I dislike lying. I had a small piece of packaged bread from the airplane, and the Customs official harshly interrogated me about having food. After flying for so long and getting this not-so-warm welcome back, I was not in a good mood. I didn’t respond in a cheerful and friendly manner. After I finally got through Customs and joined the rest of the group, who stood around waiting for me, I angrily described what happened.