Germany: The City Dresden & the Village Böla

For those of you planning on travelling to Europe with ambitions of having a "real" experience with "the people of the country" and "getting in touch" with another culture, my best advice is to do what I did. Befriend a man who grew up in a 330-person village, and if he happens to be kind enough to invite you to his house for Easter, you should promptly accept. Without Patrick's hospitality and generosity, my German experience more than likely would have consisted of a hostel in Munich and a city map with me wondering if that hill over there was the Alps or not.

However, with my fun and knowledgeable friend as not only a world class host, but also a stand up tour guide, I feel that I “carpe diemed” Deutschland like it was going out of style.

After 16 hours on the bus, Patrick and I wound through the roads of East Germany skipping from village to village, sunshine and countryside abounding, until we reached my home away from home away from home, Böla. With 330 (332 with Patrick and me) people populating this village, word had apparently spread that the Schobers would be housing an American and a pair of Australians (who arrived a day later than I). Near as I could tell, if the 4th of July is the best time to shoot off fireworks, then early April is the best time to renovate a roof, as Patrick's dad climbed down a ladder to greet me.

Patrick's house

The house where Patrick grew up turned out to be the house his father grew up in, and his father, and his father, and his father. Patrick's brother lives across the street, and his uncle down the road. As I said, the Aussies stayed a day in Copenhagen, so I found myself the lone foreigner on this particular afternoon. After meeting the gang (Patrick's dad, Andreas, and mother, Martina) we went upstairs and had some delicious German meatballs. Patrick's father spoke pretty decent English, and his mother spoke next to none. I actually picked up a fair amount of German, mostly credited to Patrick's 18-month-old niece, Lilly, a.k.a. “the cutest kid in the world”. As her parents (Patrick's brother and girlfriend) did their best to teach Lilly basic German, I did my best to listen in and am proud to say I now have the German linguistic skills of a two-year-old.

Looking out the window in the kitchen, we were able to see the goings-on of the whole village. Whether someone drove out or rode their bike down to the bakery next to the pond, any type of activity could be noted. This proved a comfortable out in the event Patrick's family ran out of English or the Aussies and I ran out of German at the breakfast table.


The best part of staying at Patrick's house in the village had to be the stories his parents told. Growing up in the Russian-controlled federation, Andreas and Martina were not allowed to leave East Germany. They told us that when the announcement came over the radio that the wall had fallen, people all over Berlin got in their cars and headed west...just because they could.

When Neil Armstrong landed on the moon, they had to watch it on pirated West German TV, because the Communists controlled the airwaves. We looked at a world map, and Andreas told us he was just happy to have people from all over the world in his house, because when he was our age, a line was drawn, dividing the world, and people either stood on the American or the Russian side.

Another favorite part of life in the village for me was the Easter Walk. After all 16 of us had finished our Easter dinner, we headed outside. Andreas, Martina, Grandma Schober, Patrick, his brother, his brother's girlfriend, his aunt, uncle, cousin, his grandparents on Martina's side, Zak, Kath and of course, Lilly, all put on our shoes and hiked through the village. On the walk Patrick pointed out places where memories had taken place, as well as different plants and sceneries native to Germany. Back at the house, we all had cake and coffee, which were followed by a tradition I'll bring back to America: the Easter nap.

Dresden is a city known not only for being the capital of Saxony (a federal German state) but also for the tragedy it endured in 1945. As WWII raged on, the Anglo-American powers wanted to show the Russians they were still a major player in the war. It was decided to bomb Dresden, a town with no strategic value to the war. Upward of 30,000 people died, and the town was reduced to rubble. Only recently did the people of Dresden restore the city cathedral, funded by worldwide donations, using some of the church's original bricks.

Dresden Chapel

There was even a made-for-TV movie about it, half of which Patrick and I watched with his listening intently and then translating for me. As one can imagine, this became tiresome for both of us. That's a whole different story. I really need to learn a second language. Moving on.

River Elbe

Next to the River Elbe lies Zwinger Palace built by August the Strong, beloved king of Saxony. The palace abounds with towers, fountains and gardens. Patrick explained that a rivalry had built between Dresden and Munich to claim the most beautiful and historic city in Germany. Standing outside the opera house, actors dressed as royalty from the time of King August roamed the streets. It reminded me of Disneyland.

Zwinger Palace

Opera House

In addition to the rebuilt "old town," the "new district" of Dresden displayed a different era of beautiful buildings with a number of award-winning architectural masterpieces in the center of the city.

UFA Cinema Center

Next time...Prague!