Germany, day 37: Good-bye to Church Friends

(Pictures from another day)

The inside of the St. Martini's church

Another testament that Bremen had become home: we have developed a group of friends at the St. Martini church; a small group, but we recognize each other.

Being a Sunday, and wanting something familiar on our last Sunday, we went to church at St. Martini.

The ornate organ of St. Martini.

As previously stated, I enjoy the way music is incorporated into worship. The organ itself is very neat to look at, and it is especially fun when the tune is one that we already know. The scripture passages are often recognizable using what vocabulary I know, but the sermons tend to fly by, especially with the speed of the pastor.

"Praise to the Lord...", the signature song of St. Martini's church.

After the service, we got tea (or coffee) and went outside to talk with others. The professor had been joined by his wife and two other guests, so we numbered around 7 Americans, in total. We were first approached by a man who spoke no English, but would continually try (in vain, it seems) to talk with us in German. I could not always understand him, due to his vocabulary and manner of speech, and eventually he left us to go somewhere else.

As desired, we found our few contacts, with whom we conversed and through whom we met others in the church. Altogether, we talked for a considerable length of time (over an hour), but sadly only in English. The German university student, of whom I have previously written, offered lunch to us, but as I am generally a vegetarian and would not want to drop my diet onto an unprepared German cook, I graciously declined.

In the evening, my Dad arrived into Bremen via a flight from Amsterdam. I met him at the airport, and helped him to his hostel, then we walked back through Bremen to get to my apartment and get dinner. I had a Falafel pita, which is vegetarian. The vendor reminded me of this, after I ordered, and I told that I intended that selection.

I gave Dad one of my cold Franziskaner beers, which I was eager to finish off ere leaving. I have become a fan of Hefeweizen, the wheat beers that are cloudy with yeast. Apart from micro-brews, there are relatively few American beer companies that make such beers, so when I resume drinking in two-some years, I will be spoiled from actual German beers. Dad asked if a bottle opener would make a good souvenir for me, to which he added that going to Europe was really the bottle opener. Calvin doesn't allow alcohol paraphanelia, which I assume includes bottle openers, but I may smuggle in my coaster collection.