Chapter 2

Helga

"Himmel der Bayern?" I ask to make sure I heard my friend correctly.

"Ja, eine Frau hat hingeschmissen. Du kannst ihren Platz einnehmen?" She wants me to work with her at Oktoberfest, taking the place of another woman who has dropped out.

We've been friends a long time, and seven years ago I was also a Kellnerin, beermaid, in Munich. But that was seven years ago. I don't know if I have the strength or the stamina anymore. Beermaids are paid by the amount of beer and food they sell. The more you can carry at one time, the more money you'll make, but every stein weighs around a kilo. I used to be able to carry four beers in each hand. But now, I don't know.

"It'll take your mind off things…"

She's right. I recently left my job as a human rights lawyer. Well, I didn't leave permanently but took a leave of absence for my mental health. I'm burned out. I've seen too much and have lost faith in myself and in the human race. But suddenly leaving what I've been committed to night and day for the last five years of my life has put me into a tailspin. Going back to serving beers seems like a step backward, but at the same time, staying in my apartment in Berlin without anything to do isn't healthy either.

"And you can put some distance between you and your ex-boyfriend," she adds.

She's not wrong there. I was dating a professional rugby player, Adam. Everything was wonderful in the beginning, but then he became possessive. He would hang around outside my office. At first I thought it was romantic, until he began to accuse me of having affairs with anyone he saw me speaking to, from my colleagues to my clients. Then, one day we got into an argument about something, and he hit me. I moved out immediately, and that was six months ago, but it wasn't enough, he still calls me.

"Ja, ich werde den Job annehmen. Du bist der beste." I reluctantly agree to the position and she tells me about the dirndl uniform. As I listen, I wonder if working in the beer tent called ‘Heaven of the Bavarians' will be my saving grace. Will it really be heaven? One can hope so. But I know for sure it'll be busy, hard work, and I won't have time to think about anything else, which is maybe exactly what I need right now.

As the plane taxis away from the Berlin airport, I have the strangest feeling that this will be the last time I'm in Berlin. I remind myself that I've only taken a leave of absence and that I'll be returning, but it's strange because I feel uncertainty about it in my heart.

As the plane reaches its cruising altitude, I open my book and try to read but can't focus on the words. All I can think about is my last client and the look he gave me when he realized we had lost his case. I rub my eyes and close them so no one can see the tears. I feel like I let him down. I have let so many people down. My colleagues try to tell me that part of the job is losing some cases and that overall I'm doing a well, but lately I've felt the cases I've lost strike me as if it were happening to my own mother or father. And I've been overwhelmed with thinking if I'd only worked harder, we would have won. But I had worked as hard as I could on every case.

I open my eyes as the plane lands. It's only an hour flight from Berlin to Munich. Once we are off the plane and I'm waiting for my bag, I hear Bairisch all around me. It's the German of my childhood and one that I suppress in my professional life. It's softer and more informal than standard German. And for the first time in all of this, I feel like I've made the right choice. That coming home to help my friend Ella at Heaven of the Bavarians is where I'm supposed to be right now.

I grab my dull black suitcase off the conveyor belt and enter the arrival hall. Ella is waiting for me with a bouquet of freshly cut flowers. When she sees me, she smiles, waves, and gives me a long, strong hug, "It's good to see you. Welcome home."

When she releases me from her embrace, she gives me the flowers and takes my bag. We walk together to the car park and then she drives to her two-bedroom apartment where she's allowing me to stay in her guest bedroom. She puts the flowers in a vase and sets them on the kitchen table. I begin unpacking my suitcase as Ella and I talk.

We mainly talk about Oktoberfest. She hands me my uniform dirndl and I try it on. "It's very tight," I say, zipping up the navy bodice.

"Yeah, but it makes your breasts look perkier that way. You'll sell more beer," she says seriously. Then we both laugh. She's not wrong, but I've not seen myself look like this in a while. It's a far cry from the conservative black suits I normally work in.

I tie the apron in the center for a joke. And we begin laughing again. "I thought it might be a requirement that we're all virgins in heaven." Then I take my uniform off and change into something more comfortable to properly catch up with Ella. It's fantastic to see her face-to-face, and I reflect that no matter how close you are with someone, nothing beats the authenticity of meeting in person. Just being with her makes me feel calmer than I was yesterday.

I yawn. Thankfully it's not too late when we decide to go to bed. Tomorrow is our first day, and it's going to be a grueling couple of days until I get into the rhythm of it.