Visbek

I realize that I have failed to write for the remainder of November, and while much has gone on since I last wrote, I am choosing to focus first on my current situation. I will have to recount the numerous events of November later.

Today I find myself in Visbek, the birth place and childhood home of my dearest Opa, and the small town in which much of the Wuebbolt family still lives. I have been here once before, two years ago when I was 20, and while there are small changes to the structures here, the feel has remained much the same. I do not know how or why it happened, but the moment I entered the small town I felt an immediate affinity with it. Perhaps it is because the memory of its streets runs through my blood. The Wuebbolts have been tied to this place for centuries (since the 1600s, if I do not stand corrected), and only recently, with a previous generation, has the Wuebbolt family not lived in the same house as always before. I can still see the house where my Opa and his 8 other brothers and sisters were born and raised. It is now covered in a dark red-brown brick and is divided into several apartments, but before it was part of a gloriously fruitful piece of land, with a large garden and also once a factory building from when the family tailoring business had expanded. They made beautiful clothing there, and my Oma and mother both have a few dresses that were made there. The factory building is no longer there either, having been replaced with two smaller apartment buildings (fortunately not high rises), and while they are very clean, presentable structures, they are just not the same as those buildings that held so much personal historical value. My Opa's childhood home is not as beautiful as I imagine it once was; it looks a little run down. I would love to take it back and give it life again, but it is not mine to have. The garden is gone also.
I am actually quite in the middle of nowhere, being far up in the flat, northern atmosphere of west Germany. Did you know that Germany is only divided in conversation into as West and East? I mentioned "central Germany" once and was informed that there is no such thing. It is likely a run off from the days when Germany actually was divided into an East and into a West, although perhaps they should start to adopt the idea of there being a central area, and in that process emphasize that it is a whole. As it were, I am actually in the West and very close to the Netherlands (close in Canadian terms; an hour drive seems close to me, and incredibly long to the Germans, but it is all a matter of personal opinion in the end), and am staying in my family's hotel, Hotel Wuebbolt. Interestingly enough, my cousins live in a hotel. It is beautiful; fresh, clean, with a comfortable feel and several gorgeous Christmas decorations throughout. It is really close to the centre of town, and from my window I have the most amazing view of the church tower. I count myself as one of the luckiest people right here, sitting at my little table in my cozy little room. Snow has coated everything. It is a complete and utter "winter wonderland," complete with shining Christmas lights.
And my favourite part, aside from my adoring family all close by: time has stopped. In Wetzlar time has been going by too fast. Always too fast, and picking up continually, but here is has stopped. The hours trickle by as if I were watching every grain fall through an hourglass. I have talked to many back home about my growing aversion for the return to Canada. While I miss my family and my friends so much, along with the comfortable familiarity of being within Guelph and on my gorgeous campus, I cannot help but fear the return of the mundane; I fear when things will become too familiar again. I have been bitten by the travelling bug, and there is still far too much to see. Certainly I am begining to loath the German's unfamiliarity with snow. A trip to Weimar was cancelled this past Tuesday because bus drivers did not know how to handle 5cm (if that) of snow. The Canadian bus driver balks at that much snow. And yet despite all of that, I want to stay so badly. It took me 8 hours to get here by train due to a major snow storm along the way, when it really should have taken under 6 hours, but I can truely say that I hardly cared. Being an hour late into Bremen for my connection to Rechterfeld Station (by Visbek) meant that I had an extra hour (waiting for the next train) to use in the tiny Christmas market runoff outside of the Bremen station. I had some Gluhwein and talked with some very drunk locals. People seem very eager to talk about life in Canada with me. They do not have stereotypical misconceptions, but they are very taken aback by the nature and space that we have. I, along with others, take it for granted I guess, and to the everyday German, starved for space in such a densely populated space, we Canadians are pretty darn lucky. Yes, I have been exceptionally fortunate as of late. A wonderful family in Canada, a wonderful family here, a fantastic group of friends worldwide, good health, the sensation of being alive again, and the opportunity to travel with neverending support and encouragement. Much in me has changed, and now I will need to determine how I can incorporate this greater, new view of life, into my old structure back in Canada. Nothing seems too big to handle though. Coming home will just take a little work.

Tomorrow is a day to visit Weihnachtsmarkts in Northern Germany. Combined with my friend Leslie (here also on her Fall semester abroad from Guelph Uni), I think we will have covered every Weihnachtsmarkt that there is to see in West Germany.

Candles