The news is officially out that I will be leaving one place and journeying to a new parish in Freiburg, Germany. At the moment it is like having my mind in a few different places at once as there are so many details to go over, as well as the people we wish to say goodbye to before our journey to our new home.
I have plenty of thoughts that stream through my head and I have been caught a few times by people questioning my long distances stare as a sign that I am not really with them in the conversation. I apologize, but it is hard to explain what is going on in my mind. The phone rings and sad news is relayed that a parishioner has died. This simply adds to the load of thoughts and plans. For some reason I presumed that parish activity would start to slow down. Does it ever seem to get slow?
Out with friends last evening to an outdoor dance and party. A few hundred people were there as the town gathered to consume what must surely have been a several tonnes of meat. “Ribfest” has been on all weekend and the air smells of barbecued pork, beef and chicken. Having never been to such an event, and having never consumed so much meat in one sitting (something I now regret). It struck me as very odd cultural phenomenon. All the rib venders show off their awards and trophy’s. Flags fly high on fabric frontals which look like buildings from the old west with their colossal facades. The occasional loose dog runs through the crowd like it has died and gone to heaven. A small city has sprung up on the grounds of the Recreation Centre in a matter of days, and just like the wild west, all will be a ghost town tomorrow, complete with piles of bones and a lingering smell of smoke.
Something tells me that I won’t see this kind of event in Germany. Oh, don’t get me wrong. There will be meat and beer and dancing, but the wild west atmosphere will not be there.
I continue to ponder the changes ahead, and in the meantime, sweat the BBQ sauce out of my system.