His Herstory E-Book

Bente Brunckhorst

• Herausgeber: epubli
• Kategorie: Gesellschafts- und Liebesromane
• Sprache: Englisch

Seitenzahl: 178

Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2025

Beschreibung

Bente - a Student from Hamburg, Germany - is sent to a Lutheran High-school in Missouri, USA. Missouri isn't even the first choice for Bente. It is indeed an unlucky start. And there are health issues! Caitlyn, the host-sister is pregnant, too? A lot of turmoil lies ahead. Keep in mind, it is a Christian School! Well, and how would Martin Luther have reacted to all these shenanigans? And the Reverent, Caitlyn's grandfather? Does he approve? Certainly not! And Bente doesn't know anything about baseball and, when to cheer. Does it matter? How about the peers? Will there be a knight on a charger to fight for them? And 'unbuckling the belts' - does it solve any problems, or is it more so the prior cause of them? And, besides, keep in mind, it isn't even a native speaker telling this story!

Leseprobe

His Herstory

Shenanigans at a Student Exchange

A Story by

Bente Brunckhorst

Collywobbles

My name is Bente Brunckhorst; so now you have a rough idea and a name, who is talking. Bente is a Nordic name. It is commonly used for boys and girls. It derives from totally different roots though. To me it was meant to be an abbreviation of ‚Bernhard‘, the description of a guy, supposedly being ‚strong like a bear‘.

If I were a girl however, it would have been abbreviated ‚Benedicte‘, which is the ‚Blessed one‘.

So, the Nordic folks not only discovered America, but they also share the tradition of giving speaking names to people, which is the parents’ guidance for them on their specific ways. Sometimes. At least, ‚Bente‘ as a name comes short and smoothly.

It really started when I tried to get ready for my student exchange. A lot of paperwork, a steep learning curve. There was so much to learn about Hamburg. To share it with the family, I intended to visit. Connecticut on the other hand seemed to be a nice state. More related to Europe than the rest of ‚The States’. Besides, I was born and raised in Hamburg! The real one, for sure. A Hamburg placed near Essex, separated even by a river, which gushed into the ocean; and some twenty minutes away from London, even a newer one, seemed to be interesting. and made me chuckle. I wanted to give it a try and have a splendid time over there. So, I dug into different schooling systems, different attitudes, and habits. Be prepared!

Did you know that people over here must be eighteen to apply for a driver’s license? Well, if they (or their parents) can afford the amount of about 2.500$ for the driving school. In most cases, the license is more expensive than the first car! - On the other hand, young folks have the first beer, maybe even liquor, at the age of fourteen/fifteen, with their ‚confirmation‘-gathering with their families. Confirmation, which is a Lutheran sort of start into adulthood, which however doesn’t change much in their respective lives, besides having an occasional beer.

No participation in social live elsewhere. I mean, not driving, nor elections, no say in most cases. And as to church, in Hamburg, most of the people are Lutherans, the churches being empty on a regular Sunday though.

I was fourteen at my confirmation, midterm at school, almost half a year to go to be fifteen, and then, it really doesn’t change anything until turning eighteen and finishing school at about nineteen or even twenty, depending, whether the planned exchange would fit in neatly. Schooling systems vary quite a bit, from what I had learnt so far. You start here at the age of maybe six and have a ‚class‘ every year starting with one and ending with thirteen. Forms you call them, but they are stronger bonded little groups here. So, a ‚Klasse‘ (class) and a ‚Form‘ don’t really describe the same. Well, nineteen, twenty, at least, if you don’t have to repeat.

But the beginnings and end of a school year varied from Hamburg to the US-Hamburg, as I already found out. I could jump right into the beginning of their year and drop out here prior to finishing this level or start right in the middle of their term. A lot of consideration to take. And besides, most of it was already decided by the organization in charge of the exchange.

Paperwork was an urgent matter. I had to extend my passport, get the medical files sorted out. (They wanted to know all about prior diseases and allergies.) Insurance matters, travel papers - all the lot. Plus, my parents wanted me to make a good first impression. So clothing was a matter of interest as well.

I personally wasn’t so fond of raiding the shops to get a pair of trousers or a t-shirt. And my stile wasn’t exactly what my mother would consider ‚neat‘. Besides: Wouldn’t ‚The States’ be a far better place for shopping? And wouldn’t I fit in more seemingly if I wore their garment? Didn’t they have school uniforms anyway? And then, I was just in the middle of a growth spurt. So, clothes bought here, most likely wouldn’t fit the entire stay over there.

We ended up with a pair of new jeans and some of my favorite ‚Buscherumps‘, a blue linen top with thin white stripes. They are loose-fit and usually worn over the belt like a blouse. They are a traditional garment of the North and East Sea fishermen and yet not particularly boyish, as they are traditionally worn with a scarf or shawl. Plus, they often don’t have buttons in the front, but you dress them like a jumper.

As I said, shopping isn’t my favorite thing. But you get them easily in Finkenwerder. But afterwards I was exasperated and spent. And even more exhausted than angry. Just worn. So, I went to my room and lay down. And then it started. Cramps, no call them spasms; they made me breathless. Between the convulsions I yelled for help. Finally, my mother came upstairs and immediately left for the phone. Half an hour later I was driven to the local hospital by the paramedics.

Appendicitis

It was a blur. Foggy and shivering. In other circumstances, it might have been interesting. It was after dawn, the streets were illuminated, and I would be able to see the scenery through the back window, lain secured on a stretcher, the car heading with blue lights and sirens along the main streets, all the other cars giving way.

I however was more focused on the pain and with an anxious yet small sidestep on all the things that still needed to be done because of the exchange.

The exchange was cancelled. I got over 40 degrees in temperature, which is nearly 105 in the way you guys are used to measure. I was shivering all over and they used infusions, and leg compresses to bring me into a state, they would risk surgery. I mean, I was by no means prepared at all, we had pizza on the way home, and my bowls were not exactly ready for surgery. And the fever wasn’t a good starter for a swift surgery either. The only advantage was, due to the recent growth spurt, I was a rather slim person, which makes surgery in your bowls a little less complicated.

In the morning, they sliced me open to find, what they expected. A perforated caecum, ready to burst, when they touched it. They later impressively explained the mess, they had to deal with to clean it up and finally stitch me up again. Luckily, I didn’t notice, as they had put me under the entire procedure.

Finally, I woke up in the ICU next to a girl about the same age as I. You don’t get your thinking clear as soon as you regain consciousness. It is a flood of glimpses and more sleep, another glimpse and weird thoughts, and a lot of strange noises. Mostly beeps and these pressure sleeves, which produces hissing noises occasionally. But with more beds in a room, the occasion happens more often. Luckily it was just the two of us. So, less hisses.

She was groaning. More pain compared to my personal ones. I wasn’t feeling any pain. More precisely, nothing below my nipple line. Nipple line? I took another look at her. Pretty face, but heavily damaged. An accident, most likely a bike accident? By the number of abrasions. The legs were open flesh and mostly uncovered. Just some sort of gaze material, soaked in a mixture of iodine and body fluids.

Then it suddenly settled in my brain. What the heck did they do? They were supposed to cut my bowls, not…! I tried to look down, but there was too much dressing material all over; and tubes with stuff going in and out.

Me lying next to a girl? Why didn’t it freak me out? I just thought ‚well, then it’s just how it is…‘. Then I fell asleep again.

Recovery

It was a slow process of recovery. Finally, they took every item of the covering material and tubes off and out of me. Slowly nutrition came back into my life. Tea foremost. As usual with tea, it finds its way out in a quick manner. And to my relief, everything down there was as I was used to. But the reason, why it initially struck me, bothered me for quite some time. Why did I even get it into my thoughts? And why wasn’t it such a relief after all? Was it the supposed way of dealing with that matter anyway? The girl and I continued to be neighbors until I was moved out into another ward.

It was after a couple of days, when I was allowed kind of nutrition that had to be chewed. And then it started all over. The infection wasn’t properly cleaned, and some other body tissues got infected in the process. More fevers, more pain. To be more specific, my urethral system told me through pain, something needed the doctors’ attention. Again ICU, again tubes, the girl still there, still not talkative.

This certainly put a delay into the schedule of being released from hospital. But finally, I got the papers to go home. Which just meant another bed and other pills. They changed the medication on a weekly basis, after examining the germs and testing another preparation. And there were lots of different preparations. Everyone had a different schedule. Some were four times a day, some five. The exact hour in-between had to be taken care of. Some were prior to meals, some past a given time. That meant, I stayed in bed living by the alarm clock to eat, take medicine and rest. And drink! I was supposed to drink more than 3 liters a day. That needed to be undone somehow, and it really ached! This isn’t stand-up comedy; it really is squatting tragedy.

Quite some months passed this way. No school, not too many visits and a lot of reading.

Did I tell you, that I was heavily into reading? Reading is a family thing. My mother is a librarian, my father is an editor in a publishing house. Books everywhere in the house, so to speak.

After some months I had already finished the books, we were assigned to for the current school year. In some subjects, I started the final years reading, keep in mind, I was grade eight of thirteen then.

Being appointed to so many doctors those days, I also read the standard book on preliminary medical college education, the ‚Pschyrembel‘. A mayor book I really wanted to ‚own‘, got as a present, and now - the days I am writing this story - it is good for pressing herbs. In fact, I probably have the largest collection of four-leaf clovers in there, as I all so often forget about them, after I put them amongst blotting paper between the pages.

In those days however, it was a very good conversation starter, letting me say things like: „Is the sympathicus really triggered by biochemical influences via the hypophysis?“ Or „Did you know, the ‚Ringer-Lactate-Infusion‘ saved more lives than the penicillin?“ In most cases the doctors would spend a bit of extra time discussing the topic. And let me say, there wasn’t much of distraction else during my recovery. Pre ‚Social-Everything-On-The-Net‘, books were a good thing to keep you busy. My mother worked for the local library by the way - I probably said that - so I got new books to chew on most evenings. Probably my user card at the library was already glowing from over-usage those days. But keep in mind, we weren’t short on our own books in the family. So, it kept me reading.

As to other kind of nutrition, my favorite doctor would provide me with a list of things I should eat, and those I should avoid. She smiled and added: „Actually, I would provide you with a very similar list of suitable nutrition in case you were pregnant.“

„Unlikely“, I just muttered. She was nice, however. Though appearing to be from somewhere of an Arabian country, she was natively fluent in German. I thought, she might be from the former Persia, when the Islamic revolution had taken over in the now Iran. Her parents might have left the country then. Anyway, she was obviously grown up in Hamburg. You even noticed the local dialect and the very dry humor; people tend to have over here. And the attitude, no giving any hint, if something bothers you or you get dumfounded. Very similar to the stiff upper lip of the Brits.

Due to the reduced nutrition my growth spurt ended abruptly. I stayed at 1,72 meters - we don’t have decimal points, but commas - which is about 5 feet 6 in American thinking. And the even more noticeable fact was, I lost weight. Being slim before hospital, I ended up with 76 lbs. - Anyway, finally the awaited day came, and they declared me cured and healthy, within certain parameters to regularly supervise, again. A bit weak and worn, but healthy.

Two weeks before my birthday and in question, where to place me regarding the school year? And don’t forget, I had already read the assigned books and a lot of other stuff ahead of schedule.

Birthday

The day I turned fifteen wasn’t such a great day. I mean, in Hamburg, you get all forms of wetness. From moist clouds to soaking rain. Thus, my birthday was just another rainy day. So, when asked, what to do on my birthday, I just considered a little and went for a harbor tour.

The harbor is the reason, why Hamburg came into being, why it got wealthy and what still is the umbilical cord to the world, so to speak. It is huge and interesting and always full of life. Something I had been missing out within all these months reading books. Getting in touch with the real world.

Well, Hamburg citizens don’t book a ticket on a tourist boat running around the harbor. With your monthly ticket, you just enter the public transport ferry to Finkenwerder, which is strictly speaking an island, surrounded by the Elbe River. Anyway, you get there on a ferry quite conveniently. The funny thing about this however is, these ferries are routed a way, any tourist boat would take on a harbor tour without the stupid stories being told.

So, we went there - my mother and I - in the late morning, after the rush-hour-traffic had ceased to grab a birthday breakfast in Finkenwerder. After all those days inside the house, I really enjoyed being outside again, getting in touch with unknown people and experiencing even not so pleasant weather. I must have been beaming, without noticing.

Finally, my mother cleared her throat and asked unexpectedly: „Any idea, what would please you to get as a birthday present?”

From when I was little, I knew, it was a tricky question. All so often I stated a puppy dog would be nice. And all so often I got something different. The closest to a dog was a turtle, which run away, when I showed her my grandmother’s garden. So many leaves, it just went on and on. I saw it years after by chance, so I reckon it found itself a way into the house for the winter. I cleared the throat myself. Well, a different throat for sure.

„I really would like to continue with the exchange program.” I stated hesitantly. To my real surprise my mother answered:

„As you have done all the reading as far as I have noticed, I don’t see any reasons, why we shouldn’t consider it a good opportunity. We wouldn’t know, which grade to place you in. You haven’t passed most of the tests, yet you are miles ahead of your peers. If we find a place for you in the program on short notice.” And then, after a pause.

„And, if your doctor would agree to it, certainly.”

„Would Dad be OK with it?” I asked a bit concerned.

„Actually, we had some talk about this the other day. He really appreciated your encouragement not getting the infection between your studies. You seem to be so ahead of your peers, we just would like to improve this even more. And language is key to all mayor businesses on the long run. - Mandarin would probably be even more future oriented, but both of us don’t want to send you to a Chinese family. But with a nice family in ‚The States’, we feel more comfortable. Let us make an appointment with your doctor. She can do the blood works and fill in the forms.”

You must know, the situation I have the story placed in, is prior to the terrorist successful attempt in changing the skyline of New York. You could travel into ‚The States’ a lot easier from Germany then, but to get a student visa, well, there were quite some forms a doctor would have to sign. We already had them printed out long time ago, but my appendix interfered.

Let me mention one more thing. The time this story is placed in, is a time, cellular phones were around, but mostly not so much around the younger folks. And phones were phones, they hadn’t had started getting smart. Plus, the roaming between countries, or even continents did exist, but wasn’t something people used, because of the fees involved.

So, we stayed in Finkenwerder, discussing things needed to be done, appointments to be made, documents to be checked for expiration dates, i.e., they had to be valid throughout the stay. All of this discussed and planned, the two of us, my mother and I, without any social media interference. So, after our breakfast we went to the practice to schedule an appointment for the doctor’s advice and another blood test.

Then my mother raised the topic of appropriate clothing. Nothing I was too eager about. I just shrugged and decided on a ‚Universität Hamburg est. 1919‘-hoodie this time and a new pair of jeans. The old ones, which were new prior to getting sick, weren’t fitting any longer. It was not as easy as we thought, as to my weight compared to the height ratio. So, we tried the children’s department first, with all the motifs I really disliked like unicorns, teddy bears and lots of rainbows, and finally entered the teen girls’ department, where we got that hoodie in a grayish pepper-and-salt color.

At least only pink in the sparkling imprint! And it looked quite nicely matched with the black tinted jeans. I knew, but probably no-one could tell they were meant for girls. Who would directly look at the fly and notice the zipper? The hoodie was different though. I reckon they all fell off the same line somewhere in East Asia and just got different labels stitched to. So, boys’ cloths and girls’ ones are not that different, as we think of them to be. Even if buttons and zippers are mirrored.

We also got a new pair of sneakers in plain white, ones of a well-known German brand, produced in Asia, too. And, when shopping with mothers, also underwear and some new pairs of socks came into the basket, too. They were the ones as they supposedly should be gender wise, much to my easing.

Nevertheless, the outcome was little, once stored in bags, compared to the time we spent on it. Did I tell you; I am not so much into shopping. I regard it as a rather boring necessity. Cloths are more of a necessity and quite boring.

Finally, we got home and set the table for an evening meal with the little family we had. Some of my father’s siblings came over with their children. As I was the oldest in the family, the girl-cousins didn’t pay lot of attention to me, neither did I. They however seemed to like my new jeans and almost ran mad on the hoodie.

Doctor’s Orders

If someone, who is obviously fluent in a foreign language, foreign by the pure looks of the person, you assume, this person to be fluent to any language you would be able to manage yourself.

But a person born somewhere in the French speaking Middle East and raised in Germany most likely speaks two languages at different levels. Speaking English is something we always assume but isn’t always true. At least not up to the level of fluency I had been talking to her in the German language. So, I just handed over the medical forms required for my exchange program and just asked her to fill them in.