(During my mostly self-imposed quarantine, I will be sharing a series of stories about how the relationship developed between Esther, a young woman from Switzerland, and me)
Chapter 1: The Encounter
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| December 27, 1980 Mennonite Church Langnau Switzerland |
I was teaching Spanish at Hesston College, a small two-year Mennonite-related school in Kansas. Ever since I had participated in an exciting three-week tour with a choir through South America, I wanted the opportunity to do the same in Europe, especially Germany and Switzerland. It was the cheapest way I could think of to do so, and I loved singing. So, when Hesston College announced an alumni tour of these very countries, I was in! To prepare myself for the trip, I sat in on Ervie Glick’s German class. I had had a semester of German when I was in college, but could barely utter “Guten Tag” properly, let alone “Wie geht’s?” which happened to be the title of the book Glick was using.
One day in early November, Glick came up with the idea of taking the German class to a German restaurant in Wichita, about a 30-minute drive from our campus. The students were supposed to speak German together both to and from the restaurant and while we were munching on Kraut and Wurst. I secretly scoffed at the idea. I had tried this numerous times with my Spanish classes and gave up on the idea since students usually were either silent or spoke English no matter how much I prodded them. I didn’t tell Glick, but I decided I wasn’t going to participate—just another wasted evening when I could be grading papers.
On the day we were supposed to go to the German restaurant, I arrived at class ready to learn how to decline articles in the complicated German system of nominatives, accusatives and datives. Before we dove into the subject matter, however, Glick started naming student car drivers and assigning students to each car. He pointed to me and said: “Clymer, you will drive and take students so and so with you.” I hoped he wasn’t observing my face with his pronouncement because it would have revealed a combination of shock and disgust! How was I going to get out of this? He was counting on me to help get the students to the Deutsches Fest in Wichita. I was trapped!
Begrudgingly I decided to go along with the plan but wasn’t much looking forward to it. That evening I drove my beloved yellow VW Beetle to the parking lot where we were supposed to meet. I saw the two students who I was to take with me, and I directed them to my vehicle. They quickly hopped in the back seat making me wonder if I had forgotten my deodorant. Perhaps they were scared of me because of my position of distinguished professor of Spanish. Either way, it would be hard for me to shout German to them in the back seat over the roar of my underpowered VW engine. Oh well, they probably wouldn’t say anything anyway, like my presumption.
I started up my car when I saw Glick heading toward me with another person for my vehicle. He introduced me to Esther Reichenbach from Switzerland. She jumped in beside me, and because it was a VW bug, it was RIGHT beside me. I’m not exactly sure I believe in love at first sight, but it was indubitably attraction at first sight. She was beautiful with some of the blondest natural hair I had ever seen.
Apparently, there were three native German speakers in the area with Mennonite Central Committee’s International Volunteer Exchange Program (IVEP); two males and one female. They were added to the different cars to make the experience more authentic; and more threatening to us students, I might add. I was indeed grateful that I got the female for my car. Glick now claims that he wanted to set up Esther and me. I guess his plan worked, even if I initially had no interest in the trip. But the story was only beginning to unfold.
Esther and I awkwardly tried to communicate in German, while the two young women in the back seat remained silent, as expected, curiously observing our interactions. I don’t remember much of our conversation, only that it was me fumbling and stumbling with my few German words.
We arrived at the restaurant. It was a cold, drizzly November evening. We were the first to arrive, so we went on in awaiting instructions from our leader. Had he assigned seats in the restaurant like he had assigned cars? I was hoping I would be able to sit with Esther. My hopes were soon dashed as the other cars arrived. One of the other IVEPers, Daniel also from Switzerland, came through the door, and Esther swiftly ran up to him throwing her arms around him. Their eyes sparkled and they giggled as they chatted away in some undecodable gibberish. Oh well, I thought. She already has a boyfriend, even from her own country. Dejectedly, I sauntered over to an empty table and sat down before receiving instructions for proper seating order. The warmth on the drive to Wichita I had felt in spite of the ugly weather dissipated. To my delighted surprise, however, Esther left her Swiss boyfriend to sit next to me. My spirits lifted immediately.
I don’t remember what I ordered, nor what we talked about, but it was soon time for the long ride home. Esther seemed to be reciprocating the attention I was giving her, and in spite of fearing she already had a boyfriend, I decided on the way home that I was going to ask her out. It was the perfect set up. We would arrive at the dorm; I would let the two female students out and then offer to take Esther to her host parents’ home. In that short stretch, I would ask her out. Perfect plan, or so I thought.
While we were pulling into the college, I offered Esther a ride home. “Oh,” she said. “You don’t have to. My host parents gave me their car to use to get home.” This was ridiculous!! She only lived a block from campus! Why would they give her a car to drive when it was less than a five-minute walk?! And why did she accept? The Swiss love to walk. So much for the perfect plan! If I couldn’t ask her out in the scenario I had laid out in my head, it was over. Done. Fertig. I was NOT going to go to her host parents’ home to ask her out. I was NOT going to call her on the phone, communication being hard enough face to face. I was devastated but resigned to the fact that we would probably not see each other again.
Gloomily, I opened the car door on my side to let the student behind me out. Esther did the same on her side. I got back into my car to go home silently cursing my fate. No sooner than I pushed the clutch in and put my car in gear, Esther jumped back into the car. “I thought you had a car here?” I asked surprised at this sudden turn of fate. “It’s over there,” she answered pointing to a vehicle about 10 feet away from where we were. I couldn’t believe it! First, that she had driven a car for one block, and then that she had wanted me to take her 10 feet to where her car was parked. My opportunity arrived and I took advantage of it. I asked her out and she accepted. The grey November evening had turned to gold as I soared home.
Next chapter: The Courtship
Esther was an IVEP er! That's great! I assumed you met in Switzerland.
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