Sleep-deprived in Bonn
I finally made it. After at least 24 hours of flying from Missouri to Germany and moving from plane seat to train seat, with no sleep in between, I arrived in the very early hours to Germany’s former capital, Bonn, where I would begin a new career as a journalist with their international broadcaster, Deutsche Welle.
I eagerly gathered my two-wheeled suitcase and large backpack from my seat, exited the train from the central station and walked up the worn-down steps to my first view of Europe, where I could only see cloudy skies and grey around me.
The dullness of the central station, the Hauptbahnhof, left me with a feeling of disappointment, as I had imagined European buildings as classy and classic and not functional and fatigued, with piled bricks aplenty and crumbling cement abound. But with a happy heart, I looked past the amateur graffiti and unfinished construction and continued out into the rain.
Without an umbrella, I zipped up my coat and headed swiftly towards an address that was texted to me by a ‘friend’ I had just talked to on Couchsurfing.com.
This friend, a girl in her 20’s, lived 45 minutes away by foot, which sucked, but was alright as it was a free place to stay.
As I exited the station area, the views dramatically improved. Newly built shops, with glass walls and doors, meshed nicely with Renaissance-style architecture. The large church in the middle of the square, with its steeple nearly touching the heavens, was an awe-inspiring sight.
Finally, after only 25 minutes of walking, I arrived at the address of a large baroque-style house, 4 or 5 stories high, covered in red bricks, pale stucco and white stone. Houses of similar shape and style lined the street as far as I could see, giving me the impression that Germans were orderly, as their stereotype suggests.
Standing outside the front door, with a bit of rain in my hair and on my face, I texted again to say where I was.
I received a reply from Kat who said she was excited to meet but that I would have to share a bed with her, as her roommate had come back from a trip earlier than expected, or some sort of excuse.
At this point, the idea of sleeping in a bed with a girl just after arriving in Europe gave me the confidence that Germany would be quite alright and that I would have a lot of fun living in my new country. But on the other hand, I was also annoyed, as she had promised earlier that I could have a room to myself, which at this point, meant more to me than getting some action. I knew it was quite kind of her to offer a free bed in the first place, and that I would be quite rude for wanting to complain, but if I was being completely honest with myself, I was more annoyed that the plans had changed. Also, the idea of performing without a blink of sleep, and worse, after spending more than 24 hours traveling, without a shower, gave me the chills, as I couldn’t give her the connotation that all Americans were poor in the sack.
And so, I cringed and accepted and told her that I was just outside in the rain and getting soaked, which felt nice but wasn’t a shower. She replied immediately that she couldn’t see anyone, which was a confusing bummer, given that the rain had picked up and was now coming down slightly sideways.
Undeterred, I called and told her that she should be able to see me, and I mansplained, before it was a thing, what her house looked like and where I was standing. After describing the stucco exterior and the façade with tiny engravings of ladies in stone, she responded with, “I think you’re somewhere else,” which was a moot point, as finally, I had figured that out.
“Yeah,” I replied.
But lo and behold, in the midst of the conversation, a young girl in her late teens, with a wiry frame and pleasant brown hair, opened the main door, rubbed her tired-looking eyes and greeted me with a confused smile and a quick question:
“Shay?”
“Yes, I’m Shay. You’re not Kat, are you?”
“No, I’m Kati. Were you looking for someone else?”
“Oh, no. Never mind. You’re who I’m looking to find.”
Now fully aware of my blunder, thinking I was going to Kat’s house, I explained to Kati the situation, that I had mistaken their names and confused the addresses, but that I was very thankful she had opened the door when she did.
Kati gave me a polite welcome and walked me up the four creaky, spirally flights of stairs, opened the apartment door on the top floor and showed me what would be my bedroom for the next month or so.
Feeling too blessed to say much, and much too tired to stand, I thanked her with a simple nod and plopped right into the big, comfy bed, falling right asleep, relieved that I didn’t have to share my space with a girl who lived another 20 minutes away.
