The Phone Call

So Lena is off on her German camping trip.  It is the first time the class has gone on an overnight field trip, some children have never even slept in a tent before.  It will be interesting to hear how things went.  Lena was thrilled to see the large crate full of Broetchen (rolls) sitting among the pile of supplies this morning when we arrived at school.  She knows she will survive the food if there are Broetchen there.

The return time is as yet unknown, and will remain so until they are well on their way back.  At that point, one of the parent chaperones will call one of the parents here in Heidelberg who will then call the rest of the parents in a phone tree system.  I, of course am not on the phone tree.  About four days ago, Lena's teacher gave me three phone numbers of parents in the class to call to be sure that I can be notified when they are heading back.

Phone calls are my least favorite thing to do in German.  Okay, well writing is probably worse, but rarely do I have to write anything to someone I have never met before and even then, I usually have the chance to look at it first before I am finished with it.  But calling someone you don't know on the phone, knowing that they will need an explanation of who you are and why you are calling them makes me uncomfortable.  I actually don't even like making phone calls in English to people I don't know.  I do it, and I don't put it off, but I'm not particularly fond of doing it.  There is so much you miss in a phone conversation that you get in person from a person's body and face.

So tonight, after procrastinating for too long, and worrying a great deal, I finally decided that I had to make a call or risk having Lena sit at the school waiting for me and having some other family have to help her try to get in touch with me.  Well, I chose one of the numbers on my list and called.  A man answered, and I should have known when he just said, "Hallo?"

I launched into my explanation of my name, the fact that I have a daughter in the fourth grade at the Waldorf School here in Heidelberg and that she is sort of an exchange student and I need to get me number on the list of parents to call when they come home.  And when I stopped sort of waiting for some kind of acknowledgement, he says, "Ein Moment, ein Moment bitte."  And then he takes the phone away from his mouth and says, "Here, I have no idea who this is and what she wants."

It turns out that I had just called the family in Lena's class that has an American father and a German mother.