A Long Way Home

This morning, as I got up, I debated going to church. It is not that I don't like my church, I really enjoy going. It was that I was aware that my passport was sitting in some office waiting to get a visa renewal, and thus, I probably should not risk crossing the border on the way to church. See, every week I cross the border between Germany and Switzerland usually twice a week at least. (I also get to cross the Rhine River, which is cool to me, not only because it was one of the major rivers of the world I studied in grade school, but it reminds me of a cool band, Over The Rhine.) Well, I decided that since I missed church last week due to the retreat I should go anyway. Plus, I've crossed that border hundreds of times, and have only been stopped three or four times.

Well, I made it to church with no problems. I even prayed a little prayer before nearing the border, that if I was not to go, that I to be turned around before getting to Switzerland. The problem came after church. I got back into my car and headed to the autobahn. When I got less than two kilometers from the border I hit what is best described by the German word, STAU, aka a traffic jam. It then took me one hour to travel that 1.3 kilometers. Yes, you read that right. I joke you not when I say that there was a guy walking along the road faster than I was moving. Plus you know it is bad, when the Germans and Swiss start reading newspapers and books while sitting in a stau. I even saw one lady get out and walk her dog.

What was the cause of this stau? It appeared that they were checking every passport of everyone entering this fine country. Whoops. This doesn't happen that often. I began to sweat a little, and pray that somehow I would not end up in some German cell, or even trapped in Switzerland. (It wouldn't be that bad, except my skis were in Germany) I then began to hope that since I had local plates, they would wave me through, so they could take more time to do full body cavity searches on the Dutch.

Unfortunately, I did get stopped, and in my best German, ha... I played the stupid American card, and said that I had forgotten my passport, while showing my German drivers license. After the guard did some searching on his computer (or at least played a couple games of minesweeper) he then told me not to come back with out my passport in the future.

I was in. I was almost home, and the road was clear ahead of me. So I dropped the car into fifth, and headed for home. Arriving only one and a half hours after I left church, a trip that usually takes about twenty five minutes.

But I ask you, would you let this guy in your country?

drivers license photo

Currently listening to: Martyn Joseph - cover

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