LuckyTown

I believe somebody mentioned that I was lucky. Well, as luck would have it, two days ago, I went to Lucky Town.

I didn't ask to go there. My family just said, okay, we are going to Glückstadt. It was grey and dismal. It didn't rain, but it was threatening. The wind off the water was chilly as we walked along the dykes, trying not to step in sheep dung. A black-faced sheep turned and chewed his grass at me.

Then, after a long and uneventful walk, we returned to where we parked the car and went into a nice little café for some Kaffee und Küchen. It's a German tradition. I got the Irish coffee.

My German family is very generous. They really know how to treat a guest. They are always taking me everywhere. And it's the only time when I am traveling that I don't mind if someone else makes my plans for me. That's because they live here, and they always come up with something more interesting than I think I would find on my own.

Like today, for example. I had some vague notion that I should go into Hamburg, since I haven't really seen the city since I've been here this week. But my German grandparents and one of their sons and his family were going to a see play, and they invited me to go along. It was out in the country, they said, about a two-hour drive. It's a very big deal. The play-wright is very famous. "Do you know Koll-Mai?" They asked me. "Kall who?" His name is Karl-May. Almost every child in Germany reads his books, apparently. And every year they do a play. It was to be an outdoor play about cowboys and Indians, written by a German playwright who had never in his life set foot on American soil. I thought, this can't possibly be good. And on top of that, I hate cowboys and Indians.

But when I thought about it, I decided I didn't really want to see Hamburg. I thought, why not? Why not just go and see what they Germans have to say about the wild, wild West? I did go West myself, after all. And I never see these little cousins. Maybe it will be fun. I imagined us sitting on grass, eating a picnic while watching some struggling actors try to make some lines on stage.

I was so wrong.

First of all, entering the place was like going to the Wild West section of Disney Land. With Bratwurst. And then the stage area was set in what looked like might have been an old quarry, with a huge chalk mountain on one side, a deep slope, with rows of wooden benches, and an elaborate multi-level stage area with lots of combed sand. I wondered why they had to comb the sand.

I found out when the play started, and horses galloped out from behind the building in center stage, and rode around the arena, just a few rows below us, the horse-riders dressed as Indians, but shooting guns and whooping it up. It launched right into a fight scene, and I was pleased. It was better than technicolor. Half the time I forgot it was in German.

And the two little girls with us were so excited, they were actually dressed as little squaws. They weren't the only ones. Within five minutes of us getting into the park, they had their faces painted. And at the end of the show, they went down, with all the other kids, to greet the cast, and one came back proudly with a little squiggle on a piece of paper. I think it came from the main character. The good guy.

And in the end, I was glad I took a chance and went to see the play. So I think to myself, maybe taking chances is what makes you lucky.