Carrot Queen

A strange legacy to leave behind me in Rostock, Germany is that I like carrots.

I was invited to my friend's family house when I was making my brief week and a half visit to Germany after my study abroad program in Prague. In this case, I was very politely asked what sort of food I would like and, unable to think of much, I simply answered 'carrots.'

My friend's family speaks limited English and I speak limited German. We managed to work things out just fine between us - particularly with help from my friend translating where needed - but this was a particularly pleasant joke between us. It meant I was both a funny friend and somehow gave me a very memorable connection to a common item.

So, how much do I actually like carrots?

A decent amount? They aren't my favorite food or even my favorite veggie, but they're pretty hard to get wrong and I readily know the word for it in German (it isn't that far off from English, honestly. It's "Karotten.")

True to the suggestion though, carrots were bought and stocked well. I did not manage to eat them all before I left, but I did do my best. During a city walk, my friend and I ate quite a few of them as a pseudo-lunch. ('City' for as much of a definition as Rostock can be given. While certainly not small, the reader shouldn't get the wrong idea for how large it is.)

Shouldn't be discounted that a good laugh can be a great ice breaker. I was packed carrots as a lunch like a wayward rabbit (along with a bag of chips that my friend deems bland and I find delicious). But it makes a lasting impression and much like my nickname 'Socks,' I embrace such things into my personality because the joke is too good to pass up. So not only do I collect socks, my favorite food - at least when it comes to humorous vegetables - would seem to be carrots.

This joke was not only seen with carrots as a food group either.

It was a gravestone.

[Image description: A grey stone tablet with half-faded words on all sides of the stone. In the center is a coat of arms, with three carrots being the only prominent features of it.]

During our trip into Rostock main (the main portion of the city, not to be confused with German place names tacking 'am Main' onto names. This is not that case), we visited St. Mary's Church. Near the back of the church, there was this tomb-stone-like stone affixed to the wall, with this coat of arms on it. My friend at once took a picture of it to send to her parents as proof that I apparently now had my own coat of arms.

I find this quite amusing and would be perfectly willing to have this as my coat of arms, honestly. Either way, it was a great laugh for the time being and kept us entertained for a couple minutes.

Now, there is a final reference to be made in the saga of the Carrot Queen. In this case, today I received a message from my friend to state that there were still a fair amount of carrots left after my absence. Thanks to my absence, there is sadly no suitable person to consume them.

I pointed out that this would be a perfect chance to invite me back.

My friend's mother said "Of course" - while her husband much more logically pointed out that the carrots would be bad by the time I could even think of returning.

I raise the suggestion: carrot cake?

I'm sure the joke will continue. It makes for an amusing story in the mean time though.