Finally, after all these years...

When I was in my pre-teens, we used to drive to Poland once a year with a bunch of other families. It was a long drive and sometimes and even longer wait at the border.
In order to pass the time, one of the older girls used to hand out one or two sheets of paper for a road-trip scavenger hunt. There were a few items on the list that showed up every year and frankly, were near-impossible to find.
Over time (again, LOTS of time) we did find most of them: A car with more than three colors, a truck with an elephant on the side of it,... we even found the pyramids (those are surprisingly easy to find if you don't fall asleep during a certain part of the ride). But there was one item in paticular that we never did see.
Yesterday I was on my way to a rugby tournament (yes, were else do I go these days) in Pennsylvania. We took the route that takes us through two tunnels and right through the middle of "The City". As we were coming through the tunnel, I remarked: Hey, that truck lots funny, it looks like it's reversing through the tunnel.
Then I stopped. And looked. And blinked and looked again.
here it was, after all those years of waiting:
A tow truck being towed by a tow truck!

How moving to my "native country" suddenly made me German...

It recently occurred to me that Sunday is the 4th of July and general convention dictates that I should have plans for the 4th of July. I don't think it matters what kind of plans - just that they exist and somehow make this day different from all others.
People have asked me what we do for the 4th of July in Germany. I generally answer something to the effect of, well if it's a weekday, we do normal weekday stuff and if it falls on a weekend we do weekend stuff.
They usually look confused for a minute or two.
Then understanding sets in and they say, oh yeah that's right, you don't have 4th of July in Germany. I generally cannot help myself but reply, uh, yeah we do. It comes right after July 3rd and until now has always been followed by July 5th - at least to my knowledge.
Though who knows, if Germany looses to Argentina on the 3rd, the world may end and there may really not be a 4th of July in Germany. Okay, I"ll admit, the main reason my parents have managed to swear off watching any World Cup Games this year has to do with the fact that I'm not around to turn the TV on. I like soccer. And when it comes to soccer, I will always stick with Germany. Always have, always will, even when they go head-to-head with the US. I'm invested in the outcome, to the extent that I'll watch the game, cheer if they ("we") do well, groan and roll my eyes if they ("they") start doing stupid stuff.  If they win I'll be there for the semi-finals and if they loose... well then they loose.
Actually, I think soccer is the only part of my life, I've actually chosen a country, national/cultural identity if you so will.
Interesting fact(s):
For two decades I was "the American", I had to deal with people mispronouncing my name, people making fun of American stereotypes, being criticized for whatever our former president came up with,... though for the most part, people close to me accepted that I was just me.
For two years on the ship I was "and Shannon..." during our parade of nations (sidenote: PON, which I usually avoided because it confused people to have me in them... had funky music and one by one people would walk on stage in their national costume being introduced as "Akira from Japan, representing the USA Anna-Marie, etc), after people began to accept (after initial hesitation and insisting that one HAD TO BE FROM ONE COUNTRY) that I was just me both German and American and neither.
All of the sudden, I have become German. People ask me where I'm from I usually say I grew up in Germany despite my US Passport. I've never really implied I was German. People are generally surprised by my lack of an accent and I always explain that with both my parents being American we always spoke English at home. But interestingly enough, from several people that I'd known and spent a lot of time with after about half a year they all the sudden were confused about my non-Germanness. (other people on the other hand played rugby with me for half a year and never wondered why people referred to me as "the German").
I don't really care, nor am I particularly bothered. I'm way past cultural crises. I'm still just me, and I reckon at the rate I'm going (and the places I'm might still be interested in going to), things aren't going to get any more simple. But then I've never been, anyway (it's okay, I know what you were all just thinking). Though I do think that sometimes it bothers me how quickly people are ready to "box me" and others up and put a cute little label on it.
Maybe what bothers me more, is the fact that they're are so willing to restrict themselves to their own little box - forgetting minor details such as that while "July 4th" does exist in every other country, it's of little to know importance to them. We're talking about the Birth of a Nation - and there's quite a bit happening beyond that.
Maybe what bothers me is that people are so quick to be content with what is right before their eyes. Yes, I understand that "stereotypes" can be helpful in an initial assessment of the situation, and I love making jokes based on stereotypes (I don't believe in political correctness, it just makes life boring), in my own respectful way. But there is so much more to the world and to people than what initially meets the eye. People and their stories can be so interesting. It usually only takes a little bit of thinking , a few logical steps and deductions to gain a world of understanding. Why is it, that people generally don't think things through? It seems that most people's world ends at the edge of their soup bowl.
I mean really, with a name like Shannon O'Leary how German could I really be?

Why there are no pictures from Konstanz

During my three weeks in Germany I was able to reconnect with so many good friends. It was both surprising and comforting how easily I slid back into chatting, joking around, heart-to-hearts and hanging out - almost as if we were merely catching up after the summer months.
I whizzed through Konstanz on a tight schedule, I got on a train, hopped off a train to bake cookies with my former partner in crime in the lab, hopped back on the train, went to rugby practice with my old team, hung out with former class mates at favorite Irish pub with classmates, I hung out on my old campus, laughing when people squeeled across the hallway/parking lot and running towards me "Shaaaaaaaaaannon"... it was good to be back.
I covered most of the city and saw people's new apartments, had lunch, ice-cream, dinner with various people, and finally met the husbands of some of my closest friends (yeah, really everyone is getting married).
I spent my last rainy day with some amazing friends, just talking, discussing, ranting - sharing each others lives... that night just before we said our good-byes I was laying on my friends bed just taking it all in and, the sighed and said: "I love you guys... I wish I could pack all of you in my bag and take me with you back to my island".
Before I knew it I was back on a train heading out... I usually use my train rides to download pictures off my camera, organize them as a way to "relive" the experience and process all that happened. As I reached for my backpack I realized that in the whirlwind of four very packed days I hadn't snapped a single picture. Not one.
These are the people that for three years where my "Konstanz-family". Some of the literally the first people I got to know and made friends with and connected with from the first time we introduced ourselves - other friendships matured over time, some where even people I hadn't spoke to much until my final semester.
These are the people I shared my life with, who picked me up and carried me through the rough patches, who laughed at my stories and jokes and shared their worries and joys with me.
These are the people that touched my lives in ways they (and maybe even I) don't realize. That really know me. The kind of people that I not only have a many good conversation with, who patiently waited as I put words to whatever was going around in my head, but would also sit with you in silence if there was no need to talk.
These are the people that you will see on plenty of pictures of various fun activities and crazy adventures throughout my "college days". And yet, I suppose I was so caught up in cherishing every moment during my brief visit...
I leaned back and recalled some of the conversations I'd had, sitting around in a pub exchanging stories, catching up, people riding on a bike and waving "Shaaaaaaaaannon, you're back!", laughing, bear-hugs and good byes ("see-you-laters" as I prefer to call them).
I don't need pictures. They're in my heart.