My exposure to German culture has been limited to the occasional slice of German chocolate cake and Nena’s “99 Luft Balloons”.   That’s it.  To me, Germany is this impossibly far-away land of lederhosen and schnitzel and Maria Von Trapp.  (Turns out, she’s Austrian.  Dammit.)

So imagine my genuine surprise when I hit it off with an actual German this summer while visiting Berlin.  My friend Brent, who lives there, invited me over for a lazy weekend to see the sites … and since I’d never been to Germany, I immediately took him up on the offer.  (Full disclosure:  I invited myself over, but the story sounds WAY more polite if Brent extended the invitation.  So we’ll stick with that.)

Poor Brent was nursing an ugly upper respiratory thing … and after countless hours of me dragging him around to see places he’d seen 400+ times, he’d had enough and wanted a nap.  (Can you blame him?)  His friend Christian politely offered to show me around … and a friendship was immediately born.

For a purebred German, Christian speaks perfect English.  It’s nauseating, really.  I can’t even say “Gesundheit” without Christian’s ears bleeding.  “You have the worst accent I’ve ever heard,” Christian said.  “It’s offensive.”  At one point, I contemplated saying “Farfegnugen”, but I thought his brain might explode.  Christian was the perfect guide for the day because he’d never visited ANY of the touristy destinations.  “I drive past the Berlin Wall Memorial all the time, yet I’ve never been,” he said.

Over Thanksgiving, Christian was visiting the States, so I offered to show him the sites in Kansas City.  He jumped at the opportunity.  (Full disclosure:  He wasn’t exactly thrilled.  Seems visiting Kansas isn’t at the top of his to-do list.  It never is.  Go figure.) But Christian ate up BBQ, shopping and Midwest culture with a spoon.  Actually, he sopped it up with a biscuit, but whatever.

Christian is extremely cultured and polished.  Smart too.  He’s a label whore who enjoys his Prada and Gucci and all things Macintosh.  He’s also quite the stunner with his mega-watt smile and piercing good looks.  I hate him.  While in KC, my friends were falling all over themselves to buy him drinks and show him around.  “Your friends are awfully nice,” Christian said.  “They aren’t my friends,” I snipped.

We had a wild, jam-packed day of sightseeing, including a trip to the World War I Museum.  Whereas I could care about history, Christian soaked it all in.  Obviously, Germany gets a bad rap in both World Wars … but who am I to hold it against him?

It’s been a good match, needless to say.  It’s like having a pen pal … except thanks to Skype I can talk to him face to face a zillion miles away.  This week we got to hang out in California.  It’s like the mother ship had called him home.  More on that in Part II.