4 of 46

Write now Article Tools

My Wallet Falls In The Outhouse

A friend invited me to Germany to visit her sister. It was 1978, the Berlin Wall was intact and fully guarded by armed soldiers. The city of Berlin, was divided East for communism, the West supported by America, and her allies. Germany was split in two as it had been since WWII. For those who understood what was happening there, it was a scary and sometimes deadly time. For me, I was going on vacation. I couldn't wait to visit a country that had beer gardens.

Teens can be naive. I was in the dark about the plight of those living in Berlin. Cousins, and other family members, living only miles apart, torn apart by a wall built by communism. A wall many died trying to climb. Still I was oblivious to the dangers. I was just excited to be going to Europe.

My friend had been the year before when her sister was first stationed there. She talked about the great food, the music, the party scene was nonstop 24 hours a day. At 19, I said, sign me up. Of course this was all legal, as in 1978, the drinking age was 19. However my parents still did not approve of me going.

Germany was not as pretty as I thought it would be. The mountainous views were amazing, however they were hardly visible with umbrellas. It rained just about every day I was there. Driving a car really freaked me out. The steering wheel was on the wrong side. They drive on the opposite side as we do. Do you have any idea how dangerous a European traffic rotary is to an American driver? We had to drive around the round about at least ten times before we figured out how not to get killed attempting to leave the flow of traffic.

My favorite part of the vacation, was the beer gardens. They really were everywhere like Sharlene described. One afternoon we enjoyed some German culture all afternoon. I could barely navigate to the outhouse they called a Ladies Room. I had farmer jeans on that day. My wallet with both of our passports, ID's and money was safely hidden in the breast pouch on the farmer jeans. I'm not sure why I looked down into the toilet hole. We all know what is in there. But still, we all peek. I faced the hole and looked down. Yeck, I thought to myself as I unbuttoned my farmer jeans top.

As soon as the straps fell downward, the wallet slid out of my breast pocket and into the dark deep hole of yeck. It happened so fast I couldn't catch it. I was frozen in disbelief for a few seconds. Sharlene was going to kill me was my next thought. Her stuff was in there too.

When I ran back to the beer garden to tell my friends they laughed. When they saw the look of panic and the tears in my eyes, they came running. So did all the people sitting close enough to hear me tell the story. Everyone had a good laugh that afternoon. Everyone but me. Though I do laugh today.

Did we get the wallet? Yes, we had no choice. Those ID's and passports were the only way home. We used a rope, a rock and a pail. It took a little patience, but finally the wallet was retieved. Paper work and cash removed and the wallet disguarded back into a hole not as deep as I thought.

Learn more about this author, Cyn Lee.
Click here to send this author comments or questions.

Add your voice

Know something about Memoirs: My first trip to a foreign country?
We want to hear your view. Write now!