Somewhere over the Rainbow in Germany

by rebecca Kostamo (Canada)

Making a local connection Germany

‘Somewhere over the rainbow...there’s a land that I heard of once in a lullaby.’ Childhood dreams and memories. Innocence and tranquility lost and then recovered. There is something about connections to the past that are all the more poignant when you grow up as a third culture kid. It was the last day of our trip in Germany. We had been staying at a generous former schoolmate’s house for the weekend. A last-minute, unexpected invitation from Mark, our grade one classmate changed our plans for the day. Miska had not seen Mark since she was eleven years old. Miska and I had both attended an international school in the Black Forest region of Baden-Württemberg in Germany. We met at the age of three through our parents’ friendships with each other. Although she was born in Finland and I in Canada, we are both Finnish by blood. While I had been back to Germany several times since leaving at the age of fifteen, Miska had not been back to visit our childhood haunts since she was eleven. Having to leave her life in Germany at this young age was extremely traumatic for Miska. For years, we had promised each other we would make this trip together. But, as the years went by, life and careers always side-swiped our plans. Facing a past life requires courage as well. This trip was twenty-nine years in the making. It was now our last afternoon together in Germany. We would take the train from Lorrach to Frankfurt later in the evening. As our lovely hosts dropped us off at Mark’s house, Miska and I exchanged glances. How would this meeting go? Mark walked down his driveway with his family and greeted us warmly. He told us right away, “You guys have changed, but I haven’t changed at all.” Mark’s confident personality was clearly still intact. As I watched Miska chat with Mark, I could see the impact this meeting was having on both of them. This was Miska’s first reconnection with a classmate from our very close class of years ago. She pulled out a picture of Mark and her that was taken in Grade One. Mark’s usual boisterous and gregarious demeanor softened as he took the photograph in his hand. “I can’t believe you still have this!” Mark took us on a tour of his house and yard. The afternoon passed with drinks, laughs, and reminiscing. When it was time for us to take the train to Frankfurt, Mark wanted to drop us off at the train station. As he drove us to the train station, the song “Somewhere over the Rainbow” came on the radio in his car, in English and with a ukulele accompaniment no less. Miska had just purchased a ukulele in Finland prior to this trip and we had been playing her ukulele throughout our time in Germany. I held back my tears: I knew this song was for Miska. Teary-eyed, we boarded the train. In a matter of hours, we would be saying goodbye to each other. As the picturesque German villages sped past us, we opened up a bottle of Feuerbacher white wine we had been gifted. We sipped our wine and watched the picturesque German villages, lush green meadows and deciduous forests speed by us. All that we loved, all that we had lost, and all that we had reconnected with once again on this trip.