We went to church for the first time this morning. We drove as we were not sure exactly where it was, but we should be able to walk it on walking paths in about 12 minutes. St. Marien/St. Mary's was very small, stark and contemporary. There were maybe 100 or so people there for the English Mass and some were familiar from school and the American Women's Club. A folk group provided the music and most of the songs we recognized. The regular priest is American, but today we had an Asian fellow who spoke very good English.Two big surprises -- everyone did self-intinction (dipping the host into the wine yourself), which I thought was a big no-no (you don't want wine dripping on anything). I panicked at the last moment and didn't dip. And, the kneelers were bare pieces of wood. As I kneeled there with my knees in pain, I figured I was doing penance for having missed so many weeks of church.
The only English masses in the Frankfurt area are held at a larger church in the city, and then also at our little church. We are very lucky to be so close.
Our little town was having their fall festival this past weekend, so we went this afternoon. It cracks me up to see the difference between how Germans and Americans handle things. There were 3 rides: bumper cars, kiddie cars and those swings that go around and out.
There was no line for the bumper cars (or dodgems as I called them growing up in Massachusetts). People stood all along the edge (there was no "safety" border) and when the ride stopped, it was a mad rush of people to claim a car. Then as the kids rode around, they would swipe at their friends hanging out along the edge or try to hit each other with swords they had won at a game booth. There was nothing to keep little kids from running out onto the floor, and sure enough, I saw one toddler get several paces out until her dad ran out and got her.
In a way, it's kind of refreshing to see things handled in a less than orderly fashion; in another way I find myself holding my breath, waiting for something bad to happen.
Rebecca rode on the kiddie cars. First she rode on the firetruck, but she really wanted to ride on the train and the horse. When I picked her up off the firetruck, she started pointing and yelling with urgency, "Choo-choo!" and then made that sound of horse hooves - you know, clicking you tongue, because she cannot, of course, say horse. Rebecca kept pointing at the train and horse, yelling over and over, "Choo-choo! Click, click, click! Choo-choo! Click, click, click!" I told David later that she sounded like she belonged to one of those African tribes that uses clicks in their language. Some amused glances were cast her way.
A colleague from David's office invited us to join his family for a Sunday afternoon in Höchst, a town I only knew for its huge chemical plant. It is more well known for its historic old city center. We enjoyed a picnic at a crowded park along the Main River and watched barges pass by. It took a while for the kids to warm up to each other (their two children didn't speak much English) but soon enough, Emilie and the little girl were off to the playground and the other kids kicked around a soccer ball. The grownups chatted about the challenges of living in a foreign country and burned off some calories chasing after Rebecca.

