Elementary kids in Germany get out of school at 12:30 pm. Can you believe it? That means they are everywhere inside the train station five minutes after the bell rings.
They show up like a Tsunami. They surround you at the drugstore looking for magazines, buying Star-Wars collector cards, trading Mento mints, and hanging on their buddies. All this of course is done dressed for the cold, frigid weather in their parkas, caps, boots, scarfs and mittens. They are just adorable. That is until the middle aged American gets on the bus and discovers he's the only one over 12 besides the driver.
They stare, they smile, they giggle, they talk about me but to each other. I ask them how old they are and one girl giggles and tells me 9. "I have a son who is 11," I say. "I'm 11" another girl says. She giggles and I ask if she wants to see my boy's picture. Something is uttered in German that seems like "sure" in English so I flash her a photo of Luke. More giggles, more words spoken that I don't understand, and then she blushes as a friend hits her on the shoulder.
The ride lasted 20 minutes through a pretty Bavarian countryside from Ansbach to Neuendettelsau. That was the last stop, and the bus driver asked the last girl on the bus to show the American where he could find Mission EineWelt. She did. I did. Life's good.
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