Making friends with the locals (or not)

A little phone conversation with my mother made me feel guilty for not getting out to meet my neighbors.  "If you don't have any friends, why don't you make a plate of cookies and go introduce yourself."  

I had plenty of excuses not to: 
There are big open fields on two sides of my house
The house on the corner usually has guys outside drinking on the weekends
I don't speak German
I don't have much baking stuff at my apartment
No plastic wrap
My husband is not home

But I still felt guilty.  I've been praying to know how to make more friends (not because I think I need friends, but because I think I should want friends.) I thought "Maybe this suggestion to make cookies is God answering my prayers."  So I decided to give it a try.

The first time I realized it probably wasn't the answer to my prayers is when I was making the cookies, and trying to mix flour, sugar, and eggs by hand!   "This couldn't have been my answer!"  (I said it to myself, since I have no husband or friends around to complain to.)  Then that same feeling was reconfirmed after I finally took the cookies out of the oven, and any hopes of posting a picture to pinterest was shattered.  They. were. ugly. [see picture for proof.]  Still, now that I had the cookies made I had to do something with them, so yesterday I forced myself to wrap them up and go meet my neighbors.  If previous events had been a foreshadow of what was to come, I guess I wasn't paying much attention.

I first went to the house on the left.  Ring the doorbell.  An old guy in a tanktop comes to the door.  "Halo!  I'm your new neighbor.  Do you speak any English?"  Blank stare.  "No."  Well what is a person supposed to do in that situation? Say "okay, sorry, I'll come back in 6 months when I know more German"?

I just pretended he did speak some English, and told him I lived next door, and wanted to introduce myself.  Have a husband but he's not around.  Found out his name (which I immediately forgot, luckily its written on his mailbox).  And got the heck out of there.  Ignored the fact that the house has two other doorbells for the people living on the second and third floors.  I thought again, "This couldn't have been the answer I was looking for." 

**As a side note, when I told people I was moving to Germany, they said, "oh, no problem, everyone there speaks English."   Really people??**

Next, I went to the house on the other side of the field  that Hyrum thinks is Ghetto.  (Why?  Because there are kids toys ALL over the yard, several cars, and guys that drink on the driveway on the weekends.)  I walked up the steps to the main entrance, rang one of the three doorbells, unsure which door it belonged to.  No one answered, but I heard a guy coming up from the basement level.  He seemed surprised to see me standing there (like an idiot) so I assume it wasn't his doorbell.  But since I couldn't really explain myself I decided to give him the cookies and introduce myself.  Same Schpeel.  This guy also didn't speak English.  So continue the awkwardness!  And to make matters worse, while I was talking to him the door on the main floor opened and another guy walked out.  And of course I didn't have multiple plates of cookies.  Hope they'll share the brown cookies.  I got the heck out of there, too, and didn't turn around to see anyone laughing. 

Fortunately, at the third doorbell that I rang, I heard a little girl say, "I'll get it!"  Music to my ears. (They are American).

I still have two plates of cookies in my kitchen.  I think I'll put them in the freezer till Hyrum gets home.  I've been scarred enough for one week... month... maybe even year.  And I think I'll keep praying to find out how to make more friends, because that sure didn't work.  Thanks Mom!