Touchdown in the Milk Country of Deutschland!

As I wheel my heavy luggage out of the airport (I have been admonished many a time for it, but I just can’t seem to help), I see a cheery lady waiting at the entrance with a Bosch placard. Confirming that the sign was intended for me, we walk to the Ford hatchback waiting at the entrance. I am a wee bit disappointed as I was expecting a Merc thanks to my many friends who built up my expectations – “Big cars are ubiquitous in Germany. You will have a Merc pick you up!” Yeah right!!!

My cab driver, Michaelina is excited to have me as a passenger – ‘Indians are good fun to talk to; they don’t fold their hands and sit mum like the Chinese’. The clouds clear a bit and the sun peeps out. She immediately concludes that I am a passenger who brings good luck. I just pray that her notion stays till the end of the ride. The last few days had proved to be quite topsy turvy for me. She continues to chat about differences in culture, funny experiences of other passengers and how she helped them out in tricky situations.

Looking out, I see rolling farmlands on either side – wheat, sugar beet, potatoes. Solitary farmhouses dot the landscape. We occassionally see a footbridge over us with chattering wives of farmers. Michaelina informs that Niedersachsen is the Milk Country of Deutschland known for dairy products. I remember the ‘Milka’ I received on the flight to Hannover and think it apt. Most of the trees are leafless yet with a few impatient ones already sprouting new buds. I notice something strange about some of the trees. While most of it is bare there are certain round balls of green on them. On enquiry, I am told that it is the mistletoe. Little did I know that this ‘I’ve often heard’ but ‘never seen’ plant was parasitic. I imagine kissing under this new found image of the mistletoe.

The navigation system in the car guides us to my apartment. I eagerly walk up to the door to realize that it is locked and does not have a reception, receptionist and keys like I had imagined. I try calling up our accommodation desk in India borrowing Michaelina’s phone but the lack of response proves that I was too late. I now turn to my benevolent cab driver to help me out with revived gratitude for having waited around.

She drives me to the Bosch Office in Hildesheimer Wald and having deposited me in the care of my new boss, she drives away. A couple of phone calls, introductions, exclamations of surprise on my light clothing with warnings of bad weather, and I am on my way back to my apartment – this time with an elderly cab driver who prefers to restrict himself to occasional introductions of the town. Our main sighting was a new mall – Arneken Galerie, which happens to be the first mall in Hildesheim. That laid to rest my doubts if I should call Hildesheim a city, town or village.