Anni – An Unwilling New Start

From home to nowhere. From my favourite city to a stupid town. From Stuttgart* to Barsinghausen*! How could my parents do this to me?
Towards the end of my high school years, my parents invited me to dinner, saying I should select a restaurant. Suspecting nothing, and only slightly irritated, I decided to choose La Bamboo where I’d previously been with my friend Stephanie. It was unusual, but good, to be doing something with my parents outside the usual holidays, long weekends, birthdays or other special events. Why not, I thought to myself in my continuing naiveté.
After a delicious spicy meal, for dessert my parents shared with me the true reason for our unexpected family occasion: My Dad had been offered a new job. Before I had time to react or congratulate him, my Mum clarified: “It’s in Barsinghausen!” “Okay cool”, I commented, still somewhat confused, assuming that it would be a small town close to Stuttgart I had never heard of. Dad had been offered a leading position in the automotive industry, and had accepted. Only as I noticed the nervous and guilty expressions on my parents faces did I realise something was wrong. “And, where exactly is Barsinghausen?” I asked as the alarm bells began to ring in my head. “Close to Hannover!” my Dad answered, attempting to sound relaxed about it. “We, well us, will be moving in a couple of weeks. Only at the end of the school year of course, and your Mum will look for a new job once we arrive. My company has even found a house for us to live in! It’ll be great. You’ll have the whole second story just for you; you’ll even have your own bathroom. You have the whole summer holidays to adjust to being there, the new school is meant to be excellent, and . . . “ – But I wasn’t listening anymore. What a nasty ambush! Luring me into a restaurant, a public place, to deliver the bad news, knowing I wouldn’t cause a scene due to my introverted nature. I couldn’t yell at them, call them out on their selfishness, their hypocrisy. Nor could I slam the door or let my tears run free. At home I could have done all of those things, but not here in this popular Indian restaurant. Instead, I fell into a kind of trance – a humming sounded in my ears and everything started to blur. I barely remembered the drive home, and when we arrived, I locked myself directly in my room. My parents attempted to talk to me through the locked door, but I didn’t react.
How many times had they recently told me how grown-up I had become, that I was ready to take on more responsibilities, and that I could always talk to them openly about anything? Then why hadn’t they followed their own rules and just made this decision without me? I was speechless.

In Stuttgart I had built up a small, but tight-knit, circle of friends. I loved the city, our suburb, even my school. To move to a strange town, into a new school class, a year before my graduation could ruin everything. I had even been preparing to study in Stuttgart, and had wanted to spend the following year finding information about possible courses, searching for a room in a shared flat – but comfortably from home, not from over 500km away! In the meantime I had googled the town Barsinghausen – it looked small, insignificant and just plain awful. If only I was already 18, then I could just stay here, and stand up against this madness – but unfortunately it was still a couple of months until my birthday.

Inevitably the school year ended. Dad had already ordered the moving truck to arrive on the second day of the summer holidays. Mum was totally in her element, and had already almost finished sorting out, organising and packing everything a week ago. Meanwhile the night before I had still been sitting on the bed with Stephanie surrounded by mountains of clothes and five open but empty boxes – I just couldn’t bring myself to start packing. Mum knocked and poked her head around the door. “Anni sweetheart, if you need help just let me know okay? You know that by tomorrow the wardrobe needs to be empty, and I wanted to at least start taking your white shelf apart . . . “ – “We’ll get it done Susanne!” Stephanie stated firmly, and so Mum disappeared again. The careful, concerned way she had been acting towards me since the decision to move had fallen was driving Stephanie and I crazy. Admittedly though, her obvious guilty conscience had led to a small consolation: After days of discussions, my best friend and I had convinced my parents to let me move into my new room, but then return to Stuttgart where I could spend the rest of the summer holidays at Stephanie’s. I didn’t want to waste a single day of the holidays in Barsinghausen, despite my Dad never giving up on telling me how important it was to make friends there before the start of my final school year. Perhaps taking part in the summer tennis tournament, getting to know the city a bit better . . . I let him know that I wasn’t planning on making it feel like home. I just wanted to get my final year of school behind me, and go straight back – back home.

*Stuttgart = Big city in southwest Germany. Barsinghausen = small town, more than 500km north of Stuttgart.