Reprint: A Visit to the Umsiedler People

For my post this week, I decided to share an article I wrote in 2015 about a visit to Germany. I went there to attend the wedding of a friend, and learned about a church group with an interesting history.

This article was published in 2015 in a magazine titled the Anabaptist Forum (reprinted with permission). It’s written with history lovers in mind. If I was writing it again today, I might change a few things, but I decided simply to republish the original and insert some photos.

A Visit to the Umsiedler People

“Why have I never heard about these people?” I thought when I first learned about the Umsiedler (re-settlers) who returned to Germany after generations in Russia. Freed from communism, nearly a hundred thousand people calling themselves Mennonite, Baptist, or evangelicals immigrated during 1987 to 1993—the largest migration in Mennonite history. Modern Germany is much like America: wealthy, materialistic, and secular. Nevertheless, the Umsiedler were eager to return to their ancestral homeland after harsh decades in the Soviet Union. (Fact about the Umsiedler are taken from Harry Loewen and Steven M. Nolt, Through Fire and Water: An Overview of Mennonite History, 2010.)

March 2015

Today I’m making my first visit to Germany to attend a wedding and stay with friends. My flight lands in Bremen and the first thing I see as I exit the airport is a McDonald’s, reminding me perhaps I’m not so far away from home.

My hosts, Waldemar and Ella Eichmann, meet me at the airport. I’ve known the couple since last summer. Their history is common to their generation—Ella, 24, was born several months after her parents immigrated to Germany. Waldemar, 28, was born in Kazakhstan and moved to Germany as a child. Waldemar’s father is Russian but the family took on his mother’s maiden name of Eichmann because it sounded better in German. The couple belongs to an Umsiedler congregation, a Baptist Brethren church in northern Germany.

Two hours from the airport, we reach the towns of Porta Westfalica and Bad Oeynhausen, where most of the church members live. The land here is flat, except for a small mountain range. Two mountains tower on both sides of Porta Westfalcia, hence the name: “port to Westfalcia”. Waldemar and Ella and their young daughter live in a five-room flat. I’ll be staying a week with them.
The Eichmanns are both learning English so there’s plenty to talk about: word meaning, grammar, and the confusing American expressions I keep using. English is a fashionable language for young Germans. “We even have things with English to decorate,” they tell me, pointing to a wooden box that reads “Tea Time”.
Over tea, we talk about mutual acquaintances and compare upbringings and church history. Their churches also are concerned about clothing, music, and the Internet. They have no televisions and are curiously interested in the KJV debate. Asking how to follow Christ in a fast-changing society isn’t limited to Americans.

One evening we discuss education. I try to explain homeschooling and G.E.D.s. Homeschooling is illegal in Germany and all young Germans must finish university or trade school if they wish to earn a decent wage. “I will try not to be too jealous” Waldemar says at last. He is trying to earn a degree in teaching English and home economics. His wife, Ella, worked in a pharmacy before she became a mother. They are not sure what to do when their daughter, Esther, reaches the age to attend kindergarten. There is a kindergarten within walking distance, but they want to place their children in a Christian school and the nearest is too far away.

My second day in Germany, I get to visit the Baptist Brethren school. My friend Irina Keller, who’s getting married on Saturday, teaches grades 1–2. It’s Wednesday and her head is full of wedding plans but she has one last day in the classroom. Her students, like all German children, learn some English in school but still find it tough to communicate with the American visitor. Irina helps me teach them to play “Duck, Duck, Goose” and “Drop the Hankie” and they teach me how to play “Mutter, was Sie kochen?” They look much like American Mennonite children, with long blonde braids on the girls and blue jeans on the boys.

Irina and Kai’s wedding takes place on two different days.

Thursday is the courthouse registry wedding, a legal ceremony required for all German couples. Many close friends and relatives arrive to witness the formalities and then celebrate outside the courthouse. Irina’s co-teachers surprise her by bringing the school children, all holding yellow roses and red heart balloons for their teacher.

Later everyone is invited to the groom’s parents’ home for coffee and cake. Each cake was made by a friend and is a work of art.

Saturday morning the church wedding begins at 10:30 with congregational singing. The school principal, wearing a flamboyant red bow tie, moderates the service. The front of the church is decorated with spring flowers and a spinning wheel and broom —an old Bad Oeynhausen tradition symbolizing the bride’s willingness to keep house. Several ministers preach about marriage and then the vows are spoken. “Ja, mit Gottes Hilfe”, Kai and Irina promise. At noon, a feast is served in the church basement. The church’s food committee has been working hard to prepare food for five hundred guests (including a few who came without being invited, Irina later tells me.)

After lunch, the guests queue to give their gifts to the bride and groom. At 3 o’clock, the afternoon service starts. Family and friends come to the front with songs, poems, and stories for the bridal pair. Everything is very organized; there’s no scrambling for a microphone or missing papers. During this service, Irina’s friends replace her bridal veil with a traditional prayer scarf. A minister explains the meaning of the headship covering with a brief sermon on I Corinthians chapter 11.
The afternoon ends with coffee and cake in the basement. After clean-up, close family and friends drive to a nearby youth center for a relaxed evening celebration with games and wedding leftovers. The bride and groom finally say good-bye at midnight, and their friends sing “God Be With You” (In English!)
Irina will return to her classroom on Monday and she plans to keep teaching until she and her husband have their own children. Kai works as a carpenter. “He makes real wood furniture,” Irina tells me. “He won’t let me keep any of my IKEA furniture,” she adds with a laugh, referring to the popular Swedish-based chain store that sells cheap, mass-produced furniture.
The newlyweds will live in an old farmhouse next door to Kai’s parents. His family has no Russian background—the Krogers have lived in Bad Oeynhausen since the 1500s. Kai is the first generation to join the Baptist Brethren. When we tour the house, I notice a picture of an Amish farm hanging over the desk and books about Mennonites and Amish in the study. Irina told me that Kai is very interested in the Plain People of Lancaster County. They wanted to travel to Pennsylvania for their honeymoon, but decided to remodel the house instead. At Irina’s request, I brought along a straw Amish hat for her new husband.
Sunday morning we go to the same church where the wedding was the previous day. About a thousand people normally attend Sunday services. Today a visiting Russian preacher speaks through a translator. Ella whispers the occasional sentence to me in English as I struggle to follow along in my English Bible when the scripture is read. My Pennsylvania German would probably be more useful in southern Germany, but I can only catch a few words in High German.
Ella’s parents invite us for Sunday dinner. They have six children, three at home, two married, and one at university. Ella’s Uma (grandmother) also lives with them. As we enter the home, we slip off our shoes and are offered house slippers. Everyone stands for the mealtime prayer and the guest’s plate is filled first.
Ella’s brothers can speak a little English and I try out my meager German. Mostly we rely on Ella and Waldemar to translate as we ask about each other’s lives Ella’s father brings out the world map and shows me where he grew up in Kazakhstan; then asks where Pennsylvania is. He says that his father had two brothers and during World War II, one brother moved to Canada, another to Paraguay, and one brother stayed in Russia. The family lives in a comfortable house now, but life hasn’t always been easy
As we sit together, enjoying peach cake and the afternoon sunshine, there’s a sense of peace here. Even though I’m not family and can’t understand the language, I feel at home. A few years ago, I knew nothing about the Umsiedler, but today I’m with brothers and sisters

~Susan Burkholder