The Hostess' Home

Dear Reader,
 
          Making someone else's home your home is a little odd. What makes our houses become homes?  I think of Las Vegas as home because it's where my family is. I think of Cedar City, UT as my home because its the first place I had to rely on myself to live. Maybe home is something that takes time.

Das Hochstift Paderborn Portrat einer Region- Ferdinand Schoningh

     

This is a map of the Paderborn Region taken from the inside cover of a book that I found on the shelf of my room in The Hostess' house. The red dot marked Paderborn is the town I refer to when I say 'going into town'. And Borchen- the red dot underneath Paderborn- is the village in the forest where The Hostess' house is. Woot Woot for geography!  

         Our Hostess is a very nice woman and I like her home, but it isn't my home. Despite that, I am trying very hard to make myself feel at home in her home because I know that's what she wants. I walk around without shoes on (even though I wear shoes at home all the time). I put some of my things in the bathroom. I got my own groceries to put in the fridge. I did some productive things, like reading my scriptures and brushing up on some key German phrases. I met the other people staying in the house. I've been using this house the way I would my own home. I even gave myself a quick tour of the first two floors so I would be more familiar (though I haven't been in the attic yet).

The view from my current room

My current room

The Bathroom

The Front Entrance

The dining room and view to the backyard

Kitchen and view to the shed in the front yard

          But what actually started to make it feel like home was when I was downstairs after dinner and decided to just sit down and start playing the piano without asking for permission, which isn't something I'd be very likely to do in someone else's home unless I was very comfortable there. I played most of the songs that I know and sang along with them.

The Music Room

          Apparently The Hostess' husband used to play the piano all the time before he died and it's rarely been played since. She used to love the music and the quiet has made her so lonely. That's one of the reasons she decided to host. The Hostess was so excited to hear someone playing the piano that I think she didn't even notice how badly I was doing because she told me that my playing was good. Then I started singing and she was so impressed by my voice that she went into Tate's room to rave about it in German, before coming to tell me that she thought I sounded lovely.
          Music is an amazing thing. Somehow by making her home more like the one she'd once had there was a brightness and life in it. Even as the sun went down, my playing and singing was bringing some sort of inkling of light to the hostess. My songs in english brought a German woman home to a younger time. And that made me feel at home.
         After it got dark I stopped playing in case any of the other guests wanted to sleep early. I went into Tate's room and we talked. We caught up on funny stories about the family, church, and school. I'm really glad that I'm here with her. She can keep a good conversation, because she's very intelligent and has reasonable opinions. But she's also content with moments of silence and can do things alone. That's good because sometime I need hours to myself to write or relax. But last night we just talked and laughed and had such a good time.
          Before we went to go to bed, The Hostess asked to talk to us. She wanted to explain that a play is coming into the town soon and that she'd be willing to drive us into town for it if we are interested in seeing it. She also talked to us about our living arrangements while other people are coming and going in the house. The room I'm currently in is temporary and I'll be moving across the hall next week to a room with more storage space so I don't have to live out of my suitcase quite as much. That might also help me feel more at home.
          Then she mentioned how she heard Tate and I laughing earlier and how she is glad that I am here, so that Tate has someone to laugh with because she was always just doing her own thing alone before I got here. The Hostess thinks its nice that there is laughing in the house again and that we've got each other to laugh with. I agree with her. It's always nice to have someone you can laugh with when you need to laugh. Did I mention that I already really like The Hostess? I think that knowing I am doing things to make her home more enjoyable to her is really what makes me feel more at home. Service is the key to love after all. And isn't home about finding a place filled with people or experiences that you love?

Front of the House

Garden in the Front Yard

          The house is quirky and lovely. The view is so inspiring. Everything feels comfortable, bright, and warm. But what made me feel at home was having people in the home that appreciated my contributions and loved me for what I had to offer. Maybe this will house become even more of a home to me with time but for now I can tell all of you that I am taken care of.
          And that (despite the creepy path through the large dark field, past an abandoned farmhouse, deep into the woods, to the odd village of Borchen, and inside a bright colored house, that is still too reminiscent of Hansel and Gretel) I am safe and at home in Germany. And you might also be pleased to know that The Hostess is not a cannibalistic witch. She is actually just a very nice woman who likes me (and thankfully is a vegetarian who uses all natural and organic products and is definitely too much of a hippie to be a cannibal). 

     Love Always,
          The Wanderess