Jena

Over New Year's (called "Sylvester" here in Germany), I went to a little city called Jena. It's in the middle of former East Germany, and was considered to be the edge of civilization by my friends from Berlin.

After a lively Sylvester party in Berlin, 7 friends and I packed our stuff into a little Chevy Matiz and another car and took off, heading south.

On the way down, I sat in the front with this cool girl. For privacy purposes, I'll call her Tony. She is studying medicine in Berlin, and originally comes from the eastern part of Berlin, although I get the feeling she feels "Westernized" enough.. at least enough to make jokes about the East-Germans, or "Ossies". On the way down, Tony told me that her family had a hard time during Soviet control of East Berlin, especially because they were members of the church, and refused to enter "the party" of the Sozialistische Einheitspartei Deutschlands (SED). I guess in the equivalent of high school, each student had an appointment with a school counselor, in which they were haggled into joining the SED. Those who did not join the SED were discriminated against, and the fact that they were not in the SED appeared on their public record, which was viewed by employers, court systems, etc.

The Ministerium für Staatssicherheit, or "Stasi" was the secret police service of the East German government that was responsible for national and international intelligence. One of the famous repressive activities they participated in was spying on East German citizens, and punishing those who spoke against the government. After the Berlin wall came down, the Stasi records kept about East German residents were made available. Tony's grandfather requested a copy of his records. When he received them, he was surprised at how many of the people he thought were close friends were actually spying on him as "unofficial workers" of the Stasi. It was an interesting conversation. But not romantic.

The real romance started that night when we arrived in Chemnitz, which used to be called "Karl-Marx city" when it was in East-Germany. The youth from former East-Germany were having a multi-day seminar/social gathering for young single adults, and were having a New Year's ball that night, so we joined in. Unfortunately, we had to pay 15 euros for entry. Luckily, that included dinner and drinks. Jordan and I got our money's worth with several plates of Knoedel, Gulash, potatoes, and Red Cabbage.

At the dance, one of the Berlin girls kept clinging onto me whenever another male came near. I'll refer to her as "Jenny". Throughout the evening, I danced with Jenny a couple of times so she didn't have to dance with the guys she didn't want to dance with. I thought nothing of it. I didn't think she thought anything of it, either. We barely knew each other. And I was pretty sure she liked my roommate, anyway.
After the dance, we drove from Chemnitz to our sleeping place in Jena. One of the Berlin girls was going to school in Jena, and was moving into a new apartment with three friends. The other friends weren't going to move in until the start of school, so for a couple days, the whole 3-bedroom apartment was empty. A perfect crashing place for the eight of us for the weekend.

On the drive to Jena, I made a mistake.

I could try to blame it on the fact that it was really late.. it was after 2 in the morning, after getting very little sleep the night before because of the Sylvester party. I could also quote my mom in saying that the Holy Ghost goes to bed at 10.. so he had been sleeping for 6 hours.. I could have also probably blamed it on the fact that I was in the back seat with a girl that was pretty attractive, and that Jenny was laying on my shoulder. I could also probably blame it on the fact that I am a free-agent man on the prowl for women. Perhaps it was the romantic music on the radio. Or maybe someone had spiked the red cabbage at the dance.

At any rate, at one point in the car trip home, I had my hand on my knee, and I guess it was close to hers. Eventually, Jenny slid her hand over so it was touching mine... just a little bit... the people in the front seats could have heard my heart pounding... What was I to do? How was I to proceed? Although I had my eyes closed, and appeared almost asleep, my senses were heightened, and I felt as she slowly slid her fingers over mine.

I plead irrationality, and provide as evidence the fact that my response was to the unexpected hand-to-hand contact was to play the opossum card: fake death. I tried to think... I honestly didn't like this girl very much.. I had no intention of starting a serious relationship. I could see myself unhappily forking out my "Vienna" money on dates, trying to postpone the pain of breaking up. I also remembered the words of President Kimball who said we shouldn't hold hands like pretzels.

Unfortunately, the tender caress of her slender fingers overwhelmed me, and I succumbed. We participated in a two-finger hand hold until we arrived at the apartment in Jena.

The next morning, we slept in until like 10, at which time I was put in charge of making pancakes. While everyone else slept in, I got up to go to the store to buy ingredients. I was surprised to find Eier aus Kaefighaltung... Eggs from caged chickens. Printed on every egg produced in Germany is a code, with the first number representing the way the hens were kept. A 0 represents OEkologische Haltung, or Environmental. 1 is Freilandhaltung, or roaming. 2 is Bodenhaltung, meaning the chickens were kept on the floor. 3 is the lowest rating, for hens that have been kept in cages, Eier aus Kaefighaltung. Honestly, after my experience raising chickens when I was young, I don't care how the hens are kept, but I know that higher numbers mean that the eggs are cheaper. And I have never see '4' eggs in Berlin... Must be an Jena thing.

Anyway, I returned to the apartment to start making breakfast. When Jenny waltzed into the kitchen, I was glad for President Kimball's advice. And that I had not participated in any activities beyond the two-finger hand hold (three-finger hand hold, etc). I can't imagine what it must be like for people who wake up next to someone with the awful realization that they must have been REALLY REALLY drunk the night before..

I tried not to pay her any special attention, but it became awkward when she announced to the people awaiting breakfast that she had a dream that she was married to me... the activation of my gag reflex as an involuntary response to her disclosure was additional grounds for belief that this relationship was going nowhere. Vienna, here I come!

Luckily, I am not a native German speaker, so when she came into the kitchen - which was separated from the living room by a wall with a large window-sized hole - and asked me whether I had understood what she had just said, I kindof lied and innocently said "no.. what?". She said "good". She was in a pretty good mood, and flitted back and forth between the living room, and what she referred to as the "honeymoon room", where I was cooking pancakes.

I was able to successfully avoid her throughout the rest of the day, doing various activities such as sledding, and hiking up to some castle ruins on the top of a hill.

Unfortunately, we got pretty wet and cold on the castle hill, and came home to eat dinner and get warm. For dinner, the girls bought 3 bags of chicken sticks from the store. Unfortunately, somehow (I was in the other room), plastic got into the heated oven, which aroused a whole bunch of superstitious/scientifically derived prejudices against eating anything that has been in the same heated oven as plastic... so we tried to deep fry the chicken sticks. Unfortunately, the girls ran out of oil after the first two bags. I volunteered to go to the store to get some more, so the third bag could be prepared. I was partly relieved when Jenny offered to go with me.
Unfortunately, in Jena, everything closes at 8 on Saturdays. No more oil.

On the way walking home, I gathered my wits, and began to apologize. "Sorry about last night. I di..." "Shh", she said, trying to hush my words by putting her finger against my lips. Unfortunately, we were walking, evidently out of sync, and she ended up sticking her finger up my nose. I was silent.. Mostly because I had never been silenced in such a manner.

I thought everything was going to be fine, and that she understood. Unfortunately, she thought everything was going to be fine, too.



We arrived home, and the friends had started watching Ice Age 3. We shared our bad news with our cooking friends, and the 6 of us who lived in Berlin rejoiced that stores don't close at 8 on Saturday in Berlin.

I sat down in a chair in front of the TV, and began watching. Jenny pulled up a chair next to me... I folded my arms. When dinner was ready, we paused the movie, said a prayer, and began consuming the chicken fingers. My chair was next to the table, which was a good thing, because I had easy access to the chicken fingers. I figured as long as I had greasy fingers, Jenny would leave my fingers alone. Unfortunately, it didn't stop her from getting a blanket, sharing it with me, and laying on my shoulder. Also, due to the lack of oil, the grease from the chicken fingers would disappear after a while, so I was forced to continually refill my plate with greasy fingers. I figured that I would rather live with the consequences of a potential heart attack induced by the overindulgence of chicken fingers, than those of letting Jenny get a hold of my fingers.

I spent the rest of the evening with my greasy fingers held awkwardly in the air in front of me. That night, Jenny and I had a talk. She asked me what I wanted to say earlier. I told her that I didn't think a relationship would be good because she and my roommate had had a thing going on. She reassured me that they were now over. I knew that things were over from my roommate's side, but I wasn't sure about her side...

We all went to bed that night about 3. I shared a room with my roommate and another kid from the ward who just got back from his mission to England. That night, in our sleeping bags, we discussed the events, and I told them of my carnal blunder. I also gave them a press release -- an official statement to tell any girl that asked them about me.. I just didn't feel good about a relationship, and I only wanted friendship.

The whole time, I had a pretty sick feeling, which climaxed about 4, and coincided nicely with the time that Tony emerged from the shower. I'll spare you the details, but I came out of the bathroom feeling very relieved. Unfortunately, in about 30 minutes, I was forced to take another bathroom break. Everyone was asleep by this time, not looking forward to getting up for church the next morning at 8:30. And I was supposed to make pancakes again at 8 for everyone.

The night was a ferocious one for me. The next hour, I could no longer repress the urge to purge my stomach of some inner enemy. I hoped all were soundly asleep. Instead of going back to sleep in the bedroom, I camped out in the living room so I wouldn't have to wake anyone when I had to get up. I still felt pretty sick. In the living room, I heard the familiar noise of someone else puking... The mystery puker always returned to the girls' bedroom, so I wasn't sure who it was. We traded off time in the bathroom. I'm just glad we never had an urge at the same time. That could have been especially catastrophic because the new apartment didn't even have a kitchen sink. I guess kitchen sinks aren't generally included in unfurnished apartments.

When 8:00 finally arrived, I hadn't slept a bit, although my entire digestive track was bone dry. Jenny was the first to shower. When she came out of the shower, she saw me.. sickly laying on the couch with stomach pain. She claimed she had been sick during the night, too, and came and sat on the floor next to the couch, with her head next to mine. Totally unromantic.. the smell of her shampoo was powerful, and although it might have smelled good at another time, it was sickening to me as I lay there. I tried to scoot toward the other end of the couch. Unfortunately, this resulted in Jenny thinking I was trying to make a place for her to sit.. She joined me on the couch. I continued to scoot away from her, as she continued to fill space.. Eventually, I was bent over, sitting in one corner of the couch, and she was laying on the rest of the couch.

When it began to get light, I heard as another person puked in the bathroom. When they emerged, I was sorry to see that it was another girl. She joined us in the living room. Later in the morning, my roommate also puked...

With her medical training, Tony diagnosed us with a stomach virus. Which had hit four of the eight of us.

I'm claiming it was the chicken.

Eventually, we made it back home to Berlin. Land of the eggs from chickens on the floor. Tony, who claimed to be still healthy, drove us home with 5 people in her Matiz.. it was pretty crazy. No hand-holding took place. And no puking. It was good. However, when we got home, Tony reported that she was actually getting sick in the car, and was sick for a couple of days.

Of course, I had a lovely facebook message waiting for me when I woke up the next morning. From Jenny. She asked about "that thing" that happened in Jena. I told her pretty explicitly that I didn't think it would work out because of loyalty to my roommate, because I didn't feel like I was ready for a relationship, and because I just didn't feel right about it.

She told me to stop trying to analyze it.

I told her that it was just a gut feeling.

She told me to feel with my heart.

My heart is with my gut.

With the chicken nuggets.