Someone is always watching you - and they likely have a pretzel

Taking a break from science on a trip to historic Leipzig earlier this fall 

My German class went on a museum field trip last week.  Berlin is full of wonderful museums, and just like living in any major city - you forget to take the time to go see them once you're actually living there.  My teacher picked the Deutsches Technikmuseum Berlin - a huge compound featuring science exhibits of all kinds.  I don't even get excited about science in English, so I wasn't counting on major excitement in German, but off I went. 

We were instructed to meet at the subway stop nearest the museum at 9:15.  When our teacher said this, I spent the rest of the class wondering if she meant we should meet underground or outside the station.  I was too nervous to ask, though, having flashbacks of the time last month when during a practice dialogue about transportation I stated that tickets are sold underneath the train tracks instead of saying "the floor below".  That was received nearly as well as when I told my classmates this week that we'd eaten Dominic's boss for dinner on Friday.  (We actually just had dinner at his house - far less exciting, but a delightful evening nonetheless.)  So I just figured I'd hope for the best.  Well, each of us seemed to have a different idea of what "meeting at the station" meant.  We had an Albanian underground, an American above, some Yemenese across the street - we had all interpreted it differently.  By the time we all united it was nearly 10:00 and I was ready for a coffee break.  

We entered the museum behind a group that must have included every Berlin school child under both the age of 10 and the 3 foot mark.  Somehow, we fit right in.  We got our group tickets and began exploring the museum right alongside the other "kids", who were only too happy to take advantage of the "hands-on" part of the museum experience.  They were like wild animals unleashed in a sea of science. Pulling on, pushing, grabbing every exhibit - all in the name of science.  I admit, it did make it more fun.  You don't even need to know German to make funny faces at short German kids in the "crazy mirrors" room.  When I wondered at one point if I needed to ask to go to the bathroom, however, I realized I had been surrounded by these kids for a little too long. 

There were no English translations for any of the exhibit placards, so we walked around as a small group with our teacher explaining any big words (aka all of the science words) that we didn't understand.  Together we re-learned the basics of optics, refreshed ourselves on how a lava lamp works, put our hands on the glass ball that still - 20 years after the last time we'd all tried it - makes your hair stand up.  The only exhibit that was translated into English was one entitled "Big Brother" that demonstrated how science is used in surveillance.  The subtitle (auf Englisch) was: "...someone is always watching you".

After 3 hours of learning and growing, we headed down to the museum cafeteria to enjoy our picnic lunch.  We were each instructed to bring something to share with the group (which also included an all-male, higher level class).  Even though we were all non-Germans, we ended up with a pretty German "feast" that included:

- Bread and cheese (my contribution)

- Rolls...baked with cheese

- Chunks of cheese

- Bread with soggy tomato sauce

- Chocolate chip cookies (4 kinds)

- Meatballs

- Sausage

As we ate we smiled across the cafeteria at the school kids who were enjoying their own packed lunches - complete with pretzels and Capri Sun.  (It seems kids all over the world can't resist both the challenge and accomplishment of spearing a Capri Sun container.) 

To top off our bread, meat, and cheese celebration, one of the guys from the other class was proud to present us with a thermos of coffee he'd carried around all morning as his contribution to the picnic.  He said the Yemenese are known for having the best coffee in the world, and he wanted to share this with us.  (His proclamation ignited a brief argument from an Italian and Spaniard in the group, but either way, there was coffee to be had - so it quickly faded.) As we lifted our glasses to take our first sips, he added that he himself had never made a cup of coffee before that day - but he had made sure to call his mother that morning in Yemen to learn her method.