(Note: Radek was indeed able to clarify the meaning of the weird astronomical clock. He began by saying, "I liked your blog post." This was surprising because it was not followed by the usual "but..." This could only mean that I not offensive enough. Anyway, he said the calendar's purpose is to determine when Easter will be in the future. One can check it and exclaim, "Oh, lookie here, Klaus! I was just wondering when Easter would take place in 2019.")
Radek told me there were two streets in
Lübeck called Heaven and Hell. Since they weren't listed on my tourist map, I checked Google maps and discovered they were very short streets that led to a small grouping of flats, hidden off the main road. I decided it was best not to go straight to Hell. I should at least try to enter Heaven first. When I reached the place where Heaven (or Himmel) should be, I couldn't find it. I walked up and down the road and saw one walkway, but it didn't have a name. Obviously, I took this as a bad sign. I was not meant to be there, so I went in search of Hell (or Hölle). That proved to be difficult too. Again, I found myself in the right spot, but there wasn't a street sign. Now, this was really troubling. I was stuck in purgatory!
Eventually, I wandered down a nearby walkway and found my sign. It was in the form of a small chalkboard on the side of a house, and it read, "
Höllen Marmalade. Bitte spende in de Bnetkaska." Beside it was a box with some samples.
Hell was quite lovely. There were lush gardens, bright flowers, butterflies flitting about. And they had cable. After this, I didn't see the point in going to Heaven.
One day, Radek and I were discussing what to do for the day, so we looked at the map for ideas. He asked me what I wanted to do. I said, "I like nature," and suggested going to the forest. He replied, "The forest? There are just trees." I pointed out a nearby botanical garden, and we opted to go there. Radek said he had never been there and didn't know it existed. This was not surprising.
The garden was small but included an impressive variety of plants, trees, and flowers from around the world. Each had a little plaque stating its country of origin, and occasionally, we would see a plant from North America. Radek kept asking me to name these plants. I explained that America is a big place, and it would be impossible for me to know them all. This didn't stop him from teasing me and continuing to ask. I didn't mind because I have serious doubts as to whether Radek can name one tree in Germany.
Radek informed me that I "like to do things for old people." After looking around at the other visitors, I could only agree. We were by far the youngest people there. Therefore, we decided to be old people, sit on a bench to rest every thirty feet, and discuss our health problems.
I decided this wasn't such a bad description of myself, particularly coming from someone who had recently asked me to shave his back. Radek told me he was like a dog and needed his coat shaved in the summer when it was hot. As an elderly spinster, I had no problem with the request. I said, "I've never done this before, but I'm pretty sure I'm going to be really good at it." And I was.
We wound up walking all around the city, through parks, past various monuments and statues. After a while, Radek looked at me with amazement and said, "I can't believe you are walking." Like many people around the world, he was under the assumption that Americans are lazy, out of shape, and want to drive everywhere. I laughed and clarified that this was only an accurate description of "most Americans."
Radek pointed to these unusual circles on the ground and asked, "What do you think these are?" I mumbled something about how maybe they were pipes but was mostly dumbfounded. He explained they were metal barriers which could be raised to stop an invasion of Soviet tanks. They were in front of the bridge (which could also be blown up to prevent troops from crossing), and this would allow the people of the town one day to flee.
It was really interesting, but I couldn't help wondering - Did he really expect me to guess correctly? Who would guess that?
Deutsch is a funny language. Lots of signs began with the word, bad. Jeez, maybe their art is crummy, but that doesn't seem like something you should showcase. It turns out that "bad" means "by the water." The beach is bad.
Lübeck is bad. The toilet is bad. Everything is bad.
"Ausfahrt" means "exit." That makes sense, as farts usually are looking for an exit. Also, "Die" means "the." Sign everywhere declared that this or that should die.
And then there were words like this. Not only do they contain too many syllables, but they sound like a sneeze. According to Radek, Germans have a fondness for shoving phrases together and making them one long word instead.
Well, eventually the time came when I had to leave Germany. So, I said Goodbye. Auf wiedersenen. Adios. Au revoir. Adeus. Farvel. Do widzenia. Tot ziens. Arrivederci.
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