I write to you from Cottbus Germany, where a trade delegation from Erie is hoping to set the stage for a final push that will extend the runway of a former military base here, and set the groundwork for a Germany to Erie air cargo link that supporters insist could help change the face of Erie economics.
If you want to know more about the project, feel free to watch the coverage on television.
I’d much rather use this space to tell you what I’ve seen so far of the real Germany.
Yes, it’s true, people eat a lot of bratwurst here. The problem is, the foot long sausage dogs are almost always served on a four inch bun, leaving you with this sandwich that has four inches of dog sticking out each side of the bun.
Don’t get me wrong, it’s fine eating, even if the Germans have a small problem with their dog to bun ratios.
The area of Germany that I’m visiting is very much like Erie. The climate is very similar, as is the topography. The grasses and the trees look just like they do in northwestern Pennsylvania.
There are even construction zones on the highway, sights that frankly touched my heart and really made me homesick for I-90.
Oh, and while I’m on the subject of roads, let me tell you that while it may sound like a stereotype, Germans as a people are crazy drivers.
Most have small vehicles, usually Mercedes, and they aren’t afraid to dart in and out of traffic, honking their discontent as they go.
You really have to keep your head up.
Nowhere is that more apparent than the Autobahn, which does exist and true to legend has stretches where there are no posted speed limits.
And I thought that the trip over the Atlantic would be the troublesome journey.
Also true to legend, the Germans make extraordinary beer. Every region has its own local brands, and every draft by law must be served in a glass clearly marked with that beer’s label.
There are even little marks on the glass to tell you how full the beer should be.
Now that’s a society that takes its rules seriously.
Speaking of rules, German law also requires every structure, no matter how temporary, to be built to code.
That means that even the Port-o-Potties must be squared away.
The Germans meet that burden with cargo boxes with complete bathrooms inside. Many have full running water and porcelain urinals.
I have to admit that it’s a little disconcerting when a outdoor Port-a-Johnnie is better equipped than my bathroom at home.
The real story, though, is the determination of the German people to create a new future while overcoming that nightmare that was WWII.
We might complain of the eastside of Erie, but the eastside of Berlin still has square, utilitarian former Soviet buildings everywhere, often next to ornate, centuries-old structures.
The people have spent a trillion dollars since unification trying to reinvent Berlin, and to be honest, it’s hard not to root for them.
I don’t know if a relationship with this part of the world and Erie will become a reality or not, but when I see the people, people very much like the ones I see in Erie, it’s also hard not to hope for the best.