Austrian Homecoming: Part 1
After almost 30 years -- its so good to be back to my second home!
Our tickets were booked, bags were packed, tours were confirmed, kids' schedules were fixed, prepared everything that my mom would possibly need while I was away ... and we were set! I couldn't believe it, after almost 30 years, I'll be coming going back to my second home ... back to Austria!
Just as we prepared for landing, I had to pinch myself repeatedly just to know if what I was experiencing was real or just another dream. Upon arriving in Austria, Alex and I lingered in Vienna for a couple of days: savoring the capital, did the obligatory city tour and ate more than our fill of the street food eats, especially the Käsekrainer. I was counting the days till I'd be back in Maria Anzbach once again.
The day finally arrived; first, it was a visit to Sigrid's place in Böheimkirchen, a village not very far from Maria Anzbach, in the region of St. Pölten. Sigrid was one of my dearest classmates from the Volksschule, and our friendship never faltered. No matter the time or space, she and I managed to remain close after all these years.
Like most children, Sigrid and I would often have sleepovers at my place, and when I left, she and I would often correspond through the exchange of lengthy, handwritten letters. Even before Facebook became a household name for most of us, Sigrid actively searched for me online. It was through sheer luck and perseverance that she and I touched base again in ICQ, but it wasn't until recently that we finally found a way to always keep in touch.
Alex and me with my dearest classmate Sigrid and husband Leo.
You know those banal moments you watch in movies or read about in books -- about how two people who haven't seen each other for years were reunited once again in what seemed like an eternity – that was precisely what that moment was like when I went down the car, and I saw Sigrid across the street. She and I ran towards one another and gave each a great big hug. It goes without saying that she and I already had tears of joy in our eyes ... it was as if we were living in a dream.
That afternoon was but a preview of how our class reunion was going to be. I knew I'd be bawling my eyes out the following night -- when I'd be face to face with my classmates once again. That evening, however, Sigrid, Petra and I just reveled in each other's company, fondly remembering funny childhood antics, looking at age-old pictures and catching up on the latest ongoings about town. The outburst of emotion and tears wouldn't come until the following night.
The night before our reunion. Petra (left) and Sigrid (right) exchanged stories and went down memory lane together.
As dusk grew near the next day, I readied myself for that momentous time of our reunion. I asked Alex to come along with us; I had a feeling that he'd feel left out, but this wasn't something he could pass up. I wanted him to share that moment with me. Besides, he was equipped to keep himself busy ... he had his cellphone after all. Hehe.
Inside the car, Sigrid, Alex and I drove through winding roads, well-marked trees, familiar hills and meadows that were once the countryside I was accustomed to seeing as a child. As we passed one town after another, I could slowly see the telltale signs that our final destination was growing near. Because there, over the horizon, I had seen it ... the towering onion-shaped steeple that capped the church's bell tower of Ma. Anzbach. It was then that a feeling of anxiety hit me. A myriad of questions flooded my head. Questions like: would I recognize my classmates, and would they accept me? How many of them have changed? What would they think of me? Would anyone bother to see me again after all these years? Would they be warm to me or be cold and withdrawn?
My thoughts were abruptly interrupted as I saw a group of people from a distance. There were people gathered around the town square, and I wondered if the church was hosting a special event. They seemed to be waiting for something or someone. Then it dawned on me ... these were my classmates -- and the person they were waiting for ... was me! Going back to Ma. Anzbach, I was half-expecting to see ten to twelve-year-olds hanging around, waiting for me. Instead, what lay before me was a group of grown men and women huddled together – I'd almost forgotten how much time had passed and realized that we've all aged.
The moment I got out of the car and on cue, the tears fell. I was walking towards my friends with a hand over my mouth – I was trying desperately not to go into what Oprah Winfrey famously dubbed it as ‘the ugly cry.' With outstretched arms, another one of my dearest friends, Xandi, welcomed me home, assuring me that even though decades had passed, the friendship never wavered. It was indeed good to be back.
I passed each classmate one by one, recognizing them instantly, giving each a bear hug, and calling them by their full names. I was amazed on how much information I still retained. When all the re-acquaintances were made, we walked our way to the Volksschule from the church. Weeks ago, Petra was kind enough to organize and assemble all of us for the reunion. She luckily made further arrangements to have a guided tour of what the Volksschule looked like today to be led by none other than Frau Allmayer, also a former teacher who happened to be the mother of one of our classmates, Georg.
Traditionally, the Volksschule has always been within the vicinity of the town's church and Ma. Anzbach wasn't any different. I walked through the same old route the way I'd done decades ago alongside my classmates. This time around, however, I was different -- we all were, we matured to be the person we are today. Some of us may have been a far cry from the children we once were but somehow, looking at my classmates before me, it seems like nothing has really changed.
Walking our way to the Volksschule, I was informed that students no longer pass through the gate leading up to the main walkway up to the entrance. Instead, the access of this renovated, and bigger Volksschule welcomed its students from the back – a place where we used to have our outdoor recess whenever the weather permitted us to do so. The inside was unlike the one I was used to – the interior looked brighter, more spacious, with whitewashed walls, but the scent of polished wood still lingered as it did almost 30 years ago. We walked towards one of the rooms on the ground floor. What were once classrooms are rooms that morphed into places that served a different purpose such a music/instrumental room for the students or a mudroom. Spread put across the halls on were pieces of finished artworks we once made as children – the colorful spread of drawings, landscaping, and my favorite (quintessential) Volksschule project, a miniature rocking chair made of wooden clothespins or what is known as Der Schaukelstuhl aus Wäscheklammern.
Our first stop was the ground floor where Frau Allmayer led our class through the Volksschule.
I eagerly waited for us to reach the second floor -- it was here where our classroom lay. And as we opened the doors, it was as if time stood still – the seating arrangements were still the same, the walls were even the same, and the vast windows that beckoned the outdoors were still there. Only minute details of what our classroom used to look like changed -- the science projects, arts and crafts projects, additional cabinets were installed, student's tables and chairs were updated, as well as our teacher's desk. Other than that, the essence of our classroom in the 80s was there – even the mild rustle of wooden floors can still be heard as we walked about in the room.
On our way to our classroom to the second floor.
My dear friend and forever seat mate Xandi re-enacting how it was sitting in this classroom decades ago.
I distinctly remember how our grade school teacher, Frau Elizabeth Weissmann, with her commanding voice, and her ability to grab the attention of the class almost immediately. She wasn't much taller than the tallest of my classmates then, but she definitely wasn't one to be trifled with. With her light blond, short boyish hair and blue eyes, I remember her entering the classroom every day carrying a wicker basket on one side and setting it down to proceed with the day's lessons. That evening, however, the only reminder we had of Frau Weissmann was a recent picture that was purposely placed on the teacher's table. Unfortunately, she had succumbed to lung cancer shortly before our reunion. Frau Allmayer spoke on her behalf and asked us for a moment of silence. We all bowed to say a short prayer for her. It would've been great if I could give her a big hug.
The original girl group. Marianne, Xandi, Sigrid and I would always hang around with each other.
In the back row from left to right: Wilfred Weissman, Martin Roitner, Markus Gürtler, Georg Allmayer, Harald Ratteneder, Walter Korn, Michael Lang. In the front row from left to right: Marianne Timmel, Michaela Kiesling, Monika Ludwig, Alexandra Ecker, me, Petra Kraic, Sigrid Rothwangl. Our class was almost complete, save for the ones who we couldn't contact, or those who sadly couldn't make it. The night was filled with stories, laughter and reminiscing the old days where we would prank one another while taking pictures . . . and after 30 years, one of us is still at it!
When the tour of the Volksschule ended, the group proceeded to have dinner at a nearby Greek restaurant marked by the golden lions at the town square called Der Grieche zum goldenen Löwen. The rest of the evening was filled with more stories and laughter of the past, group conversations, and catching up with each other's lives – a single night is just not enough! It was a great blessing to have felt like a child once again. That night was joyous not only because I had seen most of my classmates but what mattered was the knowledge that despite the time and distance, my friends remained as they are: loving, caring and appreciative of the bond that we formed years ago. I knew then that these were friends who are kindred spirits, friendships that will undoubtedly last a lifetime.
