Ich Verstehe nur Bahnhof
“Lunch today, my place!” My friend Cecille called me today from her suburban home before 8 a.m. – when I was still in a zombie-like state, having gone to bed too late and up too early. I burped and tasted the acidic juice in my mouth. From ginisang mongo (sauteed mongo) cum ampalaya leaves (bitter gourd) I had last night. A bit of a mongo bean came with the burp, and I unconsciously chewed it. Gross, I know!
Five oh, I said as I struggled to get up from bed. “That’s late!” Cecille protested. “I’ll be starving by then. Make it at 3. And take Jim with you!”
With Pining and Jimmy at the Vienna Central Station
Jim, our chef-wannabe, buzzed me shortly after Cecille hung up to remind me of my promise to go shopping for new shoes with him and to tell me that Cecille called him, inviting us for lunch at 12. I know, but at five, I lied. I’m taking Pining with us, I said. Pining and Cecille do not know each other, but Cecille didn’t mind when I called her to say Pining would join us. She was delighted to hear Pining is from Bulacan Province and speaks the same dialect as the two of us.
“Meet us at the Hauptbahnhof (Vienna Central Train Station) at 3 p.m.,” I told Pining. The Hauptbahnhof was known as Südbahnhof (South Train Station) before undergoing a significant renovation.
Chef-wannabe Jim–carrying a box of ice cream in one hand, umbrella in the other–and I arrived at the train station at precisely 3 p.m. Pining called to say she was on her way. Although she lives nearby, three tram stops from her place and three subway stations to Hauptbahnhof, it would still take a while before she arrives. Not wanting to waste time waiting, Jim Chef-wannabe had the idea of going to this Asian restaurant to find his umbrella, which he thought he had left after a quick lunch a month before. Fine by me, I said. There was a hitch, though. The Hauptbahnhof is a massive place with three levels, and Jim needs to remember exactly where the restaurant is. He could not remember the name, but it was an Asian restaurant. He ate curry, which he remembered, so it could only be Asian. Amazing to know that a logical mindset fascinates me no end.
But logic failed me that day. There are about three restos located on different floors inside the Hauptbahnhof, specializing in Asian cuisine. We went to each of them to check where he may have had his curry, but each time we found one, Chef-wannabe would say – with conviction–it was not the correct resto. We covered the whole place, and no curry resto was the proper restaurant. Finally, dragging my feet, which were getting heavier like lead with every step I made, I told Jim we’ll do it for the last time, lest Pining think we left without her. I told Jim that she should be here by now, but she has yet to let us know. As we were doing another round searching for the infamous resto, Chef-wannabe abruptly stood still and pondered: it could have been in another train station where he lost his umbrella.
Now you’re making sense! Bravo, Jimboy! The Westbahnhof (West Train Station), I exclaimed! I remember the day he wanted to cook stroganoff but needed a mushroom cream he could not find in any grocery store in town. He told me about this small grocery store inside the Westbahhof selling American stuff and that he might find this elusive ingredient crucial for his recipe. He didn’t get the mushroom soup in a can, alright, but found an Asian restaurant where he got spicy chicken curry for lunch– eventually leaving his umbrella. Excellent, I said as I drew a long, deep breath!
But where could Pining be? The last time we heard from her was shortly after 3 p.m. Four oh now, my watch said! My phone rang. “Where are you?” that was her. “On Platform One!” Same here, she said. “No, you can’t unless you were hiding from us.” That was me again. I advised her to go down one level to find McDonald’s, where we would await her. She was again on the line five minutes later, telling us she was now at McDos and still could not see us. I could see Jim–his ice cream probably melting in his Rucksack; I could see me, so wadafak?
“Look, we’ll go back to Platform One. Take the lift beside McDonalds, and when the door opens, it is Platform One.” I said this as Jim advised me to keep cool; she’ll find us. Meanwhile, four trains to our destinations have arrived and left but Pining.
“Where are you, exactly?” I called to ask.
“Still on Platform One, the Westbahnhof.” Right!
Suddenly, at that very moment, after living in Vienna for 42 years now, the meaning of the German idiom “Ich verstehe nur Bahnhof” finally sank into me. Ironically, at the train station! I’ve heard it spoken so many times when I was new in Vienna but never paid attention to what it meant. The literal translation is, “I understand train station only.” It means one does not understand or does not want to understand. So I wonder what Pining had in mind when I said we’d meet her at the train station.