Listening

Sunday morning and my two American roommates left for the day, leaving just me and the ever so hospitable Germans. They had newspapers set out for me, which listed all of the (many) Catholic Churches in the area and mass times for the day. At last was there opportunity for real conversation, as opposed to the hollow and broken german tried by the others. I sat down for breakfast in the living room breakfast table, as I do everyday, but this time not surrounded by English. Only authentic german. Franz sat near the window, and it appeared as though he had been there all morning.
The radio program playing through the television offered authentic Austrian music, produced without “electric devices.” This, he argued, is real music (und zudem kann ich nur voll zustimmen). He sat, foot tapping to the beat, looking out the window through lovely morning light, into the garden as life, in this corner of the world, made no effort to rush.

He was surprised that german is a language students want to learn in the US. He asked if I speak german at home with my parents and siblings. Seems natural, right? What student would want to study a language at the university level?

He and his wife were born into war, and their childhood blossomed at a time when Germany had nothing. The Second World War and the years following were less than prime in german history. Their elementary education was faced by a lack of teachers, and their ability to learn languages other than german was restricted to none.

At age fourteen, he finished school and was immediately sent to job training (Berufsausbildung), where he learned the trade of locomotive engineering, or something similar (the difference in time and language makes direct translation difficult.)

He, as he has already times before, mentioned his twelve grandchildren and how proud he is to have a large family. He himself was one of eight children, but he only has one living sister remaining.

There’s nothing I love more, than listening. To stories, about people, in varying historical times, with a multitude of different views and ideas.

There’s more to the story, and I’m only starting to uncover it all.