Boat Trips and Balls. . . the kind where you dress up and dance.

It's been a busy week here in Wiesbaden. Not only was is Stadtfest (translated: City Fest. Like unto Summer Fest for you Oremites) but the best team in China, Tianjin, has been training with us all week long. Aside from training, which has been really tough but really good for us, we've had our plates full with all kinds of activities to keep us entertained and show Tianjin our German hospitality. Wednesday we took a bus tour of the city, which was also good for me to get to know my new home just a little bit better. Then we met at the Rathaus (City Hall) and were received warmly by the Mayor of Wiesbaden; he made a big deal of us and the Chinese team and sent us on our way with full stomachs and a bottle of white wine for each of us, which I immediately handed over to one of my teammates who accepted it graciously.


Yesterday, Saturday, the day started off with a boat ride down the river Rhine. I thought that this boat might resemble a ferry, like the one you take around New York Harbor to see the statue of Liberty (which i've never actually done, only seen it in movies). Wrong. This boat-it may be more accurate to call it a barge-this barge belongs to the fire department of Wiesbaden and is used to put out fires along the river. So for a few hours on a sunny but chilly Saturday German afternoon, two volleyball teams were as one as we navigated the waters of the Rhine.



Later that night we got all dolled up and joined Weisbaden's upper class in a celebration known as the Olympia Ball. This is a once-yearly event held at one of the oldest and most beautiful buildings in Wiesbaden, the casino. Well, that's what they call it now anyway, but it's really a theatre/ballroom/convention center type thing all in one. The night promised to be pretty boring, what with all the old people in slightly glorified prom dresses (although I will hand it to the men; they looked wonderfully Euro in their black shirt, black tie, black everything get-ups. Michael Kors would've been proud) smelling like they'd just visited the Estee Lauder counter for one too many samples of the latest perfume. Our saving grace was the disco with the mediocre Deejay who played one too many classic rock songs. We stumbled upon it while looking for the snack cart (are you surprised?) and when we got there nobody was dancing. Oh no, that would not do. So. . . we danced. We danced the night away. Aside from the ten minute break we had to take (reluctantly) to hand out the midnight newspaper, and play a little tische tennis (ping pong) we didn't leave the dance hall for the rest of the night.