Shallow Roots

Shallow roots. I’ve been thinking about that concept a lot lately, and how for a year and a half, my roots have been extremely shallow. Mostly by choice of course - no one forced me to take a leave from Eden Prairie Schools, no one forced me to live a nomadic existence this past year, and of course no one forced me to take a job across the ocean in a brand new school, city and country. These choices were mine, made willingly. And now here I am, starting this new job - this new life - and still wondering how deeply my roots will grow in the next few years. Would it have been better for me, at this stage of life, newly divorced, entering my mid-50s, to be in a place where I could push my roots firmly into the ground? Buy a new house, figure out the new social life realities of life as a single guy, dig into a career in Minnesota? Will I continue to yearn for a more stable, future-oriented life during my time in Germany? Or, will I find that, for a few more years, I enjoy the freedom and excitement afforded me from a life with fewer long-term commitments, less future thinking and a more untethered, live-for-the-moment existence. It’s difficult to tell.

Right now, as much as I love the adventure of traveling and as much as I’m looking forward to gaining new friends and new experiences in and around Frankfurt, I can’t deny that part of me craves those deep roots. Part of me craves my own home, a garden to muck around in, a community of which I can become a part, making and keeping friends that will live in close proximity to me for years and decades to come.

The thing is, I feel that no matter how much I love life in Germany - and I freaking fell in love with it during my time in Munich - I wonder if this will ever really feel like “home.” I wonder if my roots, as I envision them growing, will ever be able to take hold here as they would, or eventually will, back in Minnesota. Life as an expat teacher, working in an international school, often means friends who come and go, social circles containing mostly other expats, and unless one puts in the time and work to become fluent in the language, a difficulty in truly immersing oneself in the local community. Don’t get me wrong, and like I said, I LOVED my time as an expat in Munich. I gained so many amazing new friends, friends I hope remain in my life forever. I took advantage of the ease of European travel and I embraced the culture of Bavaria. The expat life, as an international teacher, is a truly special one. I wouldn’t trade that experience for the world.

The community of international teachers is a fascinating one. Many teachers who do what I’m about to do live this lifestyle for decades, often relocating from one country to the next every 3-5 years, living for the thrill of experiencing different cultures, traveling to all corners of the globe, trying out new jobs, and leaving a trail of dear, life-long friends wherever they go. It’s gotta be an incredible way to live. And this shared mindset among these teachers means that relationships develop quickly, and bonds are deeply cemented through common values, desires and beliefs as to what’s most important in life. It’s a tight community of like-minded, amazing people.

But, for me, I can’t help coming back to the concept of deep roots. Perhaps it’s my age, and getting into the international teaching scene later in life. Perhaps it’s the fact that I’m in the final third of my teaching career. Perhaps it’s the fact that I’ve established a life for myself back in Minnesota with over 50 years of family, friendships, and a feeling of home. Whatever it is, I just find myself thinking of those roots, and wondering if I will forever have a craving - perhaps large or perhaps small - for deeper roots.

But - a but to my previous “but” - here’s the irony about life as an expat teacher, and a reality that’s been a challenge for me for much of my life in Minnesota. The type of friendships I made and the social life I experienced while living and working in Munich have been difficult for me to replicate back home. Think - “freshman year in college” - if that’s a memory that conjures up nostalgic, happy feelings for you. In Munich, we expat teachers were tight. For the most part, we only had each other, and we were separated from our families and other friends by hundreds or thousands of miles. We became a family. Never a weekend went by when I’d be wondering if something was going on. Never did I want for social outings and get-togethers. We were all we had, and we embraced it. And while I only had one experience, for one year, at one international school, I have no doubt that most expat teaching experiences are like this.

So, back home, back in Minnesota, my roots are deep, and my network is big. My friendships are strong, forged over years or in some cases, over a literal lifetime. But for me there’s often been an isolation, a loneliness, a distance that seems to exist within my friendship circles back home. We all have established lives, most of them embedded deeply in the soil of Minnesota with families, childhood friends, college buddies. Get togethers and outings undoubtedly seem to take coordination and weeks of planning. I - and of course I hold myself responsible for this - have very few friends in Minnesota I can call on a moment’s notice to grab a beer, or get together for a game, or just hang out. And if I want to have a fun-filled weekend, I have to work for it. It’s not just going to magically happen.

Here’s how I see it, and here’s my logic in coming to Frankfurt. In my mind, and in my body, I still feel very young. I still want to experience life in a way that might be difficult or perhaps even impossible in 20 years. Putting down roots in Minnesota will be relatively easy whenever I choose to do it, and the soil and water and nutrients to grow those roots will be there as much in 2 or 5 or 10 years as they are now. Yes things will no doubt change in ways I can’t anticipate, but the basic life-giving materials are not going anywhere. So, for now, I’ve chosen shallower roots. Roots that spread far and wide, but roots that may not push too far beneath the topsoil. This is the life I’ve chosen, knowing what I was getting into and knowing that a life back in Minnesota, should I choose that again one day, will have to be put off for a period of time. This is the life I want. Saturday mornings boarding the train for new adventures in yet-to-be-discovered German cities. Long hikes and bike rides into the beautiful, forested, farm-filled and vineyard-covered countryside. Long weekends and school holidays in which nearly every corner of Europe can be reached in an easy, two or three hour flight. New friends, new cultural experiences, and hopefully, weekend fun that just seems to happen.

As I write, I’m currently comfortably seated on an intercity train from Munich back to Frankfurt. The skies are grey, the scenery is a deep green dotted with villages, church spires and the small train stations we whiz past, not stopping thanks to the fact that I’m on a high speed train. I boarded at 9:50 am and will pull into Frankfurt around 2:00. No changes, few stops, and the beauty of having a two-seater, window seat all to myself.

I journeyed to Munich on Saturday, the mission of which was to collect the bike I had purchased here in 2019 and had stored with my friends, the Schmidts, ever since. The plan was to have it here when I’d travel back, but I never really thought, when I left in 2020, that I’d be back, living in Germany once again, three years later. My long-term vision of keeping the bike available to me proved a lucky one. The Schmidts since moved back to Australia, so to pick up my bike meant going to the home of other friends, Pam and Andy, who’ve been storing it the past several weeks.

The weekend in Munich was great. A little strange and bittersweet, but great nonetheless. Bavaria and Munich hold this very special place in my heart, my fond memories are many, and if I could, I would relish the chance to live there again. So to come for a visit, and be reminded of the life I had but that is no more, is a bit tough. Of course the saying, “Don’t cry because it’s over, smile because it happened,” gives me peace and a happiness in my heart. I feel eternally blessed and grateful that I had that experience, and joyful that this is a place, with lifelong friends, that I can forever return to in life.

While in Munich I stayed with former ESL colleague Mirjam, her husband Manny and their three children in their home in the suburb of Gräfelfing. Fourteen-year-old Finn was kind enough to give up his room - covered wall-to-wall with Avengers posters. We had a super pleasant time together, rounded out by a 2-hour Sunday bike ride to Kloster Andechs where we met up with Pam, Andy, Madison, Matt, Hannah, Hannah’s visiting mother, Mirjam’s brother, and friends visiting Pam and Andy for the week. On typical, communal picnic tables we enjoyed 1-liter helles beers, pretzels with obatzda, and various other snacks. I also went for a yummy slice of crackling pork roast and potato salad. I’ve written about Andechs before, but it’s this amazing monastery on the hill, overlooking the Bavarian countryside, where monks have been brewing beer - and praying for the forgiveness of its drinkers - for over 600 years. People come from far and wide to experience the beauty and lively energy of Andechs. On a beautiful sunny day, it’s a place that never disappoints.

Later that evening, with stomachs full, some of us kept the fun going in the nearby town of Herrsching, on beautiful Lake Ammersee. We took a dip, enjoyed some drinks and people watching on the lakeside promenade, had a light dinner at a traditional Bavarian “kiosk” and eventually loaded our bikes onto the train for the journey back to Gräfelfing. Another wonderful day in Bavaria. It seems, in my experience, that these kinds of days in this part of the world, are not that difficult to come by. But, of course, I’m grateful for each and every one I’m lucky enough to have.

Journeying back in time a week or two, after my time in Greece, I was able to enjoy a long weekend in Madrid, hanging out for several days with my nephew Santi and staying in the newly renovated apartment of my sister, Maria and her husband, David who were unfortunately still back in Minnesota at the time. I was also able to visit my friend, Kenia, her roommate, Yuri, and an Eden Prairie teacher friend, Mariela, who was studying at a university in Madrid for the summer. Madrid was HOT, but that didn’t stop me from having a great time, hanging out in one of my favorite urban parks, joining David’s family for lunch, wandering the city, and enjoying several meals at some of Madrid’s many, many street-side restaurants.

The highlight was Sunday. It started in El Retiro Park, Madrid’s sprawling, leafy oasis. For me, no trip to Madrid is complete without at least one visit to El Retiro. I strolled, walking casually on familiar paths, pausing at fountains and at the park’s central pond, and waiting for the popular outdoor cafes that ring the pond to open. Once seated, I had my customary cafe con leche and thick white toast with butter and jam, and just basked in the perfection of a beautiful summer morning in Madrid. It’s in moments like this I consider myself one lucky son of a bitch. My time at El Retiro was capped off with a wonderful noon concert at an outdoor pavilion put on by the Banda Sinfónica Municipal de Madrid. A beautiful “stumble upon it” experience and a wonderful concert of, as irony would have it, music by Aaron Copeland, Leonard Bernstein, and other American masters. Go figure.

Then I was off on a wonderful walk across the city to meet up with Yuri. Kenia, unfortunately, works very long hours and was unable to join us. We had a great time, strolling the La Latina neighborhood, perusing Madrid’s bustling, “El Rastro” Sunday market, and eventually sitting together for an outdoor cafe lunch in a shady, hidden plaza. While I had met Yuri a decade ago when she was living at a children’s home in Honduras, this was the first time she and I had spent any quality time together. We had a very enjoyable lunch, slowly eating our dishes over a conversation that veered between Spanish and English, then eventually sharing a piece of chocolate cake with a coffee for each of us. Before saying goodbye to Yuri outside a metro station near Madrid’s opera house, we took in one more long stroll, past the Catedral de Santa Maria, the Palacio Real with its broad views west across Casa de Campo, and through the palace gardens.

Today was Wimbledon Sunday, the final day of a two-week tournament that culminates in the men’s final. And on this particular final Sunday, the championship match was being contested by Serbia’s Novak Djokovic and Spain’s own, young, brash phenom, Carlos Alcaraz. After saying goodbye to Yuri, I couldn’t help but slip inside a quaint little bar to enjoy some of the match that was playing on the bar’s many TVs. With little room inside, I tried jockeying for a spot at the bar, only to be invited over to a table by a kind, older Spanish gentleman. With a good front-row seat, I ordered a beer, munched on some free tapas that come with drinks at good, local places like this and sat back to enjoy some of the match with a raucous crowd of proud Spaniards. ‘Twas a beautiful thing. And Carlos went on to win..

After an all-too-brief visit with Kenia for ice cream outside her workplace, the night was capped off by a little bar hopping, drinks and dinner with Santi and Mariela. Madrid in the summer comes to life at night. People, cooped up during the day by the heat, get out in the evening and stay out late, drinking, eating, talking. The three of us spent the night like Madrileños and enjoyed every minute of it.

That’s it. Life continues to chug along in Bad Soden with mundane but necessary tasks like signing up for phone service, canceling things like car and medical insurance back home, and basically just checking crap off the list. Hotel life is getting to me, but the huge breakfasts to start my day do not disappoint. There are placards on the tables that sternly warn us not to take any food with us when we leave, but that hasn’t stopped me from making a hearty sandwich for later every day. Shhhh! Things are progressing. I’m settling in. And I’m looking forward to a few more travels before my school-year begins. Okay, done for now. Tchüss