We are about to transition from one vacation to the next vacation. For Caroline, this will be vacation number two, but for me, it is vacation number four! Today is our last full day in Germany before flying to Zagreb, Croatia, tomorrow. Back in early May, when I flew to Frankfurt two weeks prior to Caroline’s arrival, I started the first part of my vacation, padding around the main reason I left early: Superbooth. This synthesizer conference felt like a vacation all unto itself. The rest of the time in Berlin and then Erfurt, Weimar, Kulmbach, and Bayreuth felt as if they were their own vacation. Then Caroline arrived, and a week was spent with friends and family. Now, we leave that for nearly two weeks of rafting in Croatia, Bosnia, and Montenegro.
The Engelhardt Saturday ritual involves shopping for the week as Klaus and Stephanie both work, and Jutta requires some supplies and other services they provide. Today, we are able to offer not only company but assistance, too.
Klaus left the train before us in order to stop at the butcher and fetch what’s needed for their diet over the next few days. Caroline, Stephanie, and I continued down to Konstablerwache, where Stephanie collects cheese, vegetables, bread, new jams if they need them, and a host of other stuff they enjoy from the open-air market locally referred to as the Erzeugermarkt (Producers’ Market).
This twice-weekly market occurs in a large open square at the center of Konstablerwache and is equal parts market and bar. The wine, apple wine, and beer flow, especially on the beautiful weather days that invite thousands from across Frankfurt to pay a visit and sit in the sun while sampling an assortment of alcohol and local flavors. By the way, I should point out to my American readers that the area that serves alcohol is not fenced off with someone checking IDs and putting a wristband on those who want to drink. Visitors are treated like adults with the trust that vendors are not interested in selling beer and wine to children, but if a parent wants to offer a sip of their favorite drink to their child, that’s their business. This creates an open atmosphere where everyone is able to mingle without a kind of us-and-them mentality. I hope I don’t need to point out that there is no one here with a weapon – concealed or worn openly on their hip.
It’s also a great place to go grazing, which was my intention this morning. All types of bratwurst from potato to chili are being cooked up, a great mixed mushroom dish which I tried last year and more pastries than you can shake a sausage at. Shortly after I was through a dish or two, Klaus rejoined us in time to choose a few jams, and then we headed over to the waffle maker who was cooking up fresh waffles and, because of the time of year, had rhubarb compote on hand to serve atop them. From here, Stephanie had other errands to run, and I wanted to get some writing done, so Klaus and Caroline headed back to Heddernheim to drop off the groceries and gather up laundry and supplies that Caroline would drag over to her mom’s place. I took the path of least resistance and went to Starbucks because I knew they had free wifi.
While sucking Starbucks’ wifi tit served me well this afternoon, this bastion of society’s superficial and trash cultures draws the foreigners in like Germans to a loaf of bread. The line here was always deep, with at least 20-minute-long waits. By my count, around two of every eight potential customers that enter the doors simply turn around and leave after seeing the spectacle of the line. If you are a teenager, Japanese, obese, or anyone else who may not want to try drinking down the bitter battery acid of a strong German coffee, then the sugary sweet, iced Starbucks treats that serve the selfie crowd on vacation is the place for you.
Finally, I yank my embittered cantankerous grump out of the slice of Americana that my every inclination had primed me for. Sometimes, I’m my own worst enemy, hah; most of the time, I’m my own worst enemy. Off I go to join Caroline at her mom’s.
This is where I should have been writing. Outdoor seating at the edge of a small park away from major streets, it’s perfect. Except like far too many businesses across the German countryside, including in the heart of its most prosperous cities, there is no wifi! Okay, I get it that there should be a separation between work and relaxation and that people tend to drag their jobs into every social and public function, thus disturbing others, but there are some benefits in having access to free wifi at every point on the map. Full stop, all I need to think about is the kid (or grown adult) playing their video game at a coffee shop with their headphones cupped over their ears for hours and hours, never budging, never drinking anything besides a free cup of ice water or the people who need to share some incredibly intrusive viral video demonstrating another dose of Darwinian idiocy that cuts into my peace of mind like a fish knife filleting my brain from its skull and I remember that free wifi isn’t that great an idea in all cases. So, where are these magic insight skills when I need them? Mostly I just flail about whining about what I want and forgetting that there are other human beings that have their own needs. Well, yeah, of course, that’s what I do; I’m an American.
The visual music of this city is the balm that soothes my inner savage beast. Soon, Starbucks fades into the distance while the bird songs of spring and bright new growth on the trees pull me into a better space.
The corner imbiss is a luxury found all across the Frankfurt area while in many other places in Germany, you will be hard-pressed to find these versions of the convenience / fast food store, which are far tinier than anything found in America.
Living in a density like this requires a kind of education, respect for civility, quiet from both children and dogs alike, patience in finding parking spots, good-paying jobs, and generally a deep understanding that life isn’t all about you and your drama. With this kind of living on top of each other, similar to that found in New York, London, and Tokyo, the person lucky enough to be able to exist here typically has access to the greatest cultural amenities and rich diversity that is 100% absent in small towns and even larger cities where small-minded thinking is still pervasive.
It should be known that Frankfurt is considered the high crime capital of Germany, and last year, it registered 58 murders, so it is pretty dangerous, I guess. Such is the price for the opulence of globalization, but still, if we compare this to the 539 people who were murdered in Chicago in 2018, things don’t seem so bad on the mean streets of Frankfurt. The tragedy of my visits to Europe, though, is that they are intertwined with crime statistics and how I’ve been conditioned by media hyping the bad actors on the streets of Europe. From the pickpockets to the gypsies who will scam you and stab you if need be, and then the uncompassionate Germans who would just stand to the side, not offering help in their effort to ignore others, we are led to believe that Europe is essentially dangerous. So when I land here, it takes time to let my guard down that there are no thieves around every corner and crafty con artists looking for the unsuspecting American. Of course, if we could just carry our guns over here, we’d be totally safe because who’d attack an armed citizen? I would like to point something else out that has raised the eyebrows of Americans I’ve shared this with, and that’s the story of children as young as 8 or 9 traveling by train or bus on their own and in small groups. When I tell them of Caroline’s first solo visit to the U.K. when she was 14, they are incredulous that a parent would let their child travel the trains by themselves in a foreign country. I wish my fellow citizens could consider for a good long moment just what kind of freedom there is where children and parents feel safe enough to allow them to wander around unsupervised. So, just how safe is our heavily armed society making life in America better for us?
If you try to make the argument that Frankfurt is mostly a homogenous place of white people, you’d be seriously wrong as it is proudly 51.2% either non-German, German citizens born abroad, or Germans who are the children of immigrants. Matter of fact, the Turkish population of Frankfurt accounts for approximately 13% of the people who live here compared to Los Angeles, where less than 10% of its population is African-American.
When I reached Jutta’s apartment, Caroline was already there, but not for long, as we headed right out. With Jutta in tow, we returned on this bright sunny day to Gunthersburg Park for a coffee and to share a small slice of carrot cake. While I sat here in the sun listening to the ladies speaking German and kids laughing and crying in the distance, I wrote and wrote, trying to catch up with some note-taking so I have something to edit following our return from Croatia in mid-June.
Our 7:00 p.m. dinner date was with the Engelhardt’s at Speisekammer where Caroline, Stephanie, and I just ate a few days ago; one can never have too much green sauce. Service was stressed tonight in part due to it being Saturday, and the place was packed. We agreed to try to get a reservation for the Saturday after we get back at an Argentinian steak restaurant that recently won the 1st place award for the best green sauce in Frankfurt; number two best green sauce is right here at Speisekammer.