Chapter Fourteen: Frohe Weihnachten

English. Spanish. Those are the only two languages that I can be proud to say to know how to speak. When attempting to communicate in any other, it comes out as word vomit. So if you speak German and you are reading my title trying to figure out what it means, all I can say is that it is not my fault. Rather the fault lies with Google's poor translation system to find an accurate translation for "Merry Christmas."

Merry Christmas or Feliz Navidad or Frohe Weihnachten. I may not have sent out Christmas cards this year to family and friends. Nor have I really done any true baking or decorating. But I like to think that I still appreciate Christmas and what it stands for. Especially this year when celebrating the holidays away from home. So with that said, I'd like to share just how exactly I celebrated Christmas this year of 2011.

My trip started out at the Bilbao airport one week ago from today on last Thursday to head to Hamburg, Germany. Arriving late in Hamburg and reading the instructions that my friend, Christina, had given me, I had only a second to realize that I had about thirty minutes from landing in Hamburg to catch the train to the center of the city. By good faith I found the train and bought my ticket from the machine (remind me one day to write a blog about the glory of changing the machine's screens from a foreign language to English). And it was then that I like to think that I met my guardian angel.

Before buying my ticket I was close to breaking down and asking for help because I had no idea what to do. But the only other company around seemed to be an old man wearing dirty brown work pants and a green and yellow checkered sweater. Clearly not worried about his fashion statement. However, with the looks of him, I figured my odds were better if I just changed the language instead of asking my peculiar companion. After grabbing my ticket and change, I made my way down the steps to wait for the train. However, two steps behind me was my peculiar soon-to-be friend. The old man asked me something in German and like the foreigner that I was, I could only make a weird gurgle sound from the throat and shake my hand as a gesture to say that I did not speak the language what so ever.

And just like that, my assumptions of the man as being dirty, unclean, and unintelligent, disappeared. With a beautiful British accent and just a hint of German along with it, he asked me:

"So what language is yours? Is it English?"

Yes, yes it is, I told him. And that is how I came to meet Michael May.

Michael May was heading in a similar direction as I was so we took the train together. He even read the directions that my friend gave me to make sure I would be okay after he left. But in the time we had together I learned many things about him. First, he is originally from Hamburg, Germany but spent nearly twenty years of his life teaching English in Israel and even spent many Christmases in Bethlehem. He knows not only English but French, Spanish, and Hebrew as well. After those years he came back to Germany to continue teaching language. He taught me the history of Christmas in Germany along with the history of the book "A Christmas Story." So many things I learned and now I feel guilty knowing he is somewhere not knowing a single thing about me. Not even my name. Even though I asked for his name as he left, he never asked me for mine but just shook my hand, wished me a Merry Christmas, and left the train.

It took me until the next day to realize that although we met in the airport train station, he had no luggage. Nothing. I recall nothing that he had with him. So why was he in the airport waiting for the train? I have no idea. All I know is that I am very thankful this holiday season for a man named, Michael May.

Now that 's not the end of my Christmas story. This all happened within the first 45 minutes of arriving to Hamburg. I still had to change trains and arrive to where my friend Christina lived which was in Stade or a small town about an hour from Hamburg. It was not until after 11 o'clock that night when I finally reached her town, but seeing her at the train station made all worries disappear. We stayed up until nearly 2 o'clock in the morning talking, talking, and talking some more. From there on we celebrated Christmas together like no other.

Therefore, Friday, Saturday, Sunday, and Monday flew by. She and I cooked dinner, walked around her town, visited the Christmas market in Hamburg, went to a Christmas eve mass (all in German by the way), had hot chocolate with her host family, talked to our own families via Skype, opened Christmas presents from one another, visited a miniature train museum (much cooler than what it sounds), and even went ice skating. Before I knew it, Tuesday had arrived and I would be making my way back to Spain.

Within those days I came to understand something very clearly, Christmas is about spending time with those you care about. Even though I love you all dearly who are reading this blog, I do not mean that because I did not spend Christmas with you that therefore I do not love you. No, no, no. Don't think like that. I love you all. But because Christina and I were both in Europe with no extra cash to bring us home for the holidays, we spent the time together. We formed our own traditions alongside the Germans for Christmas this year. Thus, Christmas was much merrier this year than I thought it would be.

Having said that, I would like to say one more time Merry Christmas, Feliz Navidad, and if this is correct German, I would also like to say to everyone, Frohe Weihnachten!