Do you remember Esperanto? Those of you in your 20s and 30s will have never heard of it. On my recent trip to 5 Central European countries I kept thinking about it. When the world started to come together with the expansion of domestic and international travel, someone whose name I no longer remember, proposed the creation of a universal language that we would all learn and we would use to communicate across borders and cultures. It seemed like a reversal of the Tower of Babel at the time. Well, it didn't work. It was a contrived mélange of mostly western European languages that didn't please anyone. For a brief moment I also tried to learn it but I was soon turned off by its artificial flavor.

In antiquity, the world—the lands known to the Europeans at the time—had experienced the benefits of a universal language: Koiné Greek. At least, it was the language of the peoples living in the Mediterranean basin for about 4 centuries, a time evenly distributed around the beginning of the Current Era, the one we used to call “Christian Era”. It is not by chance that the New Testament arrived to us in Koiné Greek. A tip: If you want to bypass some of the charlatans' ruminations about the New Testament, learn Koiné Greek. It will take you a couple of years but it is worthwhile.

Getting back to my trip: for the time being, we don't need Esperanto at all. I took an escorted tour this time because I was intimidated by all those impossible languages of the old Eastern European countries (mostly Slavic ones). I would have been much better off doing it on my own. By necessity or by choice, English is enough, for now (Mandarin may be waiting in the wings). Shopkeepers, waiters, chambermaids and even ordinary people on the street—mostly young ones—will respond to you in English or will address you in English as soon as you are recognized as a foreigner. Furthermore, many people I encountered spoke also other Western European languages, such as Spanish or Italian. No surprise. It would seem in fact that half of Southern Europe was vacationing north of the Alps and they all had Euros. Even the French were there in force.

But it is not just the language. Central Europeans have even changed their name to be more clearly part of the modern world (let's call it just that for now). They don't want to be identified with the failed communist societies of the mid-twentieth century. They don't want to be called Eastern Europe, but rather Central Europe. They have erased as much as possible the icons of the passed era, and not just the statues, the monuments and the symbols of soviet dominance, but also the public behavior, the appearance of their buildings, the colors of their cities. Even the sad cinder-block tenements that they contemptuously called “Stalin Baroque” are discreetly disappearing under coats of fresh paint. Gray soviet buildings are turning Maria-Theresia's canary yellow (Marie Antoinette's mother loved bright yellow when she was the Empress).

More intangibly but not less significant, they have joined the European Union and prepare themselves for the adoption of the Euro, although that may not turn out to be such a good idea, given the state of the Euro these days. It was almost emotional to pass the borders between what used to be the soviet block and the west. The walls and fences have disappeared but the checkpoints are still there, abandoned, a tacit reminder of the folly of their recent past. It is Europe at its best: the vibrant life of Warsaw, the beauty of Krakow, the majesty of Budapest, the elegance of Vienna, the medieval charm of Prague.

And of course, there is Germany. Clean, precise, modern and ancient at the same time, economically powerful and socially restless, moving forward to a prosperous future and still quietly carrying a difficult past. Personally, I made peace with it this time. I did not have very good memories of my two summers in Munich when I was in my twenties, but this time I liked it, maybe not so much because Germany has changed, but rather because I have changed. I am now seeing it through the filter of 35+ years in a predominantly Anglo-Saxon country that I love. I already started relearning German. I will relearn the language and I will include Germany in my trips.

A few final remarks that I hope will not offend any of you. The expressions of religion that I witnessed during my trip left me somewhat confused. We all know that only a very small percentage of European Catholics attend church these days. Many beautiful churches are more museums than places of prayer and worship, although they are eminently suited for it. On the other side, the people who were praying in those churches or attending Mass were acting more like my grandmother when she was my age than like me at 65. They are kissing statues, kneeling at the Communion rail, praying devoutly in front of ancient, beautiful images, lighting on candles and taking Communion on the tongue. Initially, I thought that this was just Poland's experience, but then I found the same behaviors in the rest of the countries, including Austria. I am not sure about Germany. Sunday Mass at Noon at the Frankfurt cathedral was in Polish, and the church was full of Poles of course. Not a word in German.

I don't know how to interpret this phenomenon. Could it be that the only practicing Catholics left in Central Europe are those set in a traditional mold? But then, how come that there are no confessors available in those churches? Are these people “cafeteria Catholics” who choose what to retain and what to discard? What is their every-day behavior like? Furthermore, a big question looms: what kind of religious experiences do the rest of the people have? Could it be that 90%+ of European Catholics have no religion and no faith? Should we be returning the favor and go to Europe to evangelize them as they did with us during the colonial era? My son’s future wife tried that for a while, in Italy, of all places. Or should we define new categories to understand the people of today (the “modern world” was it called during Vatican II) and to detect and rekindle the embers of faith that—I tend to believe—are still there, in most people? If any of you can shed some light on this issue, I would appreciate hearing from you.

I like hearing from you about anything, anyway. That is why I am sharing my thoughts with you, with the hope that you will share yours with me, through the Internet or otherwise.