I relied on my mom and aunt to talk to my grandparents. My grandparents spoke German — my mom and aunt’s native tongue — and since my nine-year-old cousin, Jackson, and I were raised in America, we only spoke English (although I took a few semesters of German in college). My mom and my aunt translated for us. We stayed in an apartment a few miles away. One evening, my mom and aunt visited friends, and Jackson and I still walked to my grandparents for dinner.
We sat at the table with Oma and Opa, in the dining room, ready to eat Abendbrot. Wooden plates sat on the table. The condiments laid out: sausage made from blood and tongue, a meat with gelatin around it, other types of meats, various stinky cheeses, and liverwurst. We used knives and forks to eat, because this is how a civilized society eats. Not with their hands.