Landing in Dusseldorf I was greeted by cold and rain – but all in all the scenery and mood were similar to what I’d experienced in my past summer visits. A short train ride brought me to Lippstadt, where my maternal grandmother as well as my uncle and his fiancée greeted my mother and I. The next night we quietly celebrated the New Year, which brought the first real snow I’d seen in ages. With the snow we have in Auburn I’m hesitant to even tread off concrete paths lest my footprints disturb the rare scene. Shoveling snow after breakfast and having my steps covered by lunch was a new experience. My stay in Lippstadt was short but pleasant, and after six days another train took us to Heidenheim.
My aunt and two young cousins greeted us at the train station. I hadn’t yet meet the younger one, and at eighteen months he was of course already walking. My stay in Heidemheim was even shorter – and after three days I was back on a train, this time headed to Stuttgart. Other than an hour on the train between Lippstadt and Heidenheim I’d spent my time without internet access – reading, talking to relatives, taking pictures, and enjoying the tranquility before the start of the semester. Six hour of hotel wifi brought me back to the oncoming reality of school and work, and left me a little sleep deprived the next morning as I left of the airport.
After checking my luggage, passing through the first security checkpoint, stopping for a coffee, and clearing the last security check I approached customs. I presented my passport and was asked to write down my address. When I told the officer that I currently live in the US he looked puzzled and told me to wait. He kept my passport and then escorted me down one flight of stairs into a police office. As a young man I thought I was being randomly screened, and not wanting to appear nervous I sat quietly. Soon enough I found out that my name raised a flag because of an outstanding fine for “schwarzfahren” – riding a train or bus without a ticket – in Wuppertal. The print-out in front of me clearly said that Alexander Pfeiffenberger, born on the twenty-first of June in 1987 was stopped for riding without a ticket in November of last year. The name and birthday were mine, but I was in Auburn, Alabama last November. Things became more kafkaesque when the picture of the accused wouldn’t load and we had to resort to scars and birthmarks mentioned in previous records for an ID. I didn’t have the scars mentioned and luckily my hair and eye colors were different as well. At this point another officer was able to pull up a picture of an Alexander Pfeiffenberger who looked nothing like me. I didn’t get to see the picture, but I was told that my blond haired, blue eyed database doppleganger looked a good ten years older – harden from from his criminal past I’m sure. And so I was allowed go back through security and board the plane to Atlanta – a little confused, a little amused, and a little unnerved.
