The stories you tell that people can't understand

Last Thursday, instead of class, my theatre class met at our professor's house for dinner. This is the sort of thing already that only happens sometimes in America, and definitely wouldn't have played out the way it did if it had been in America. The professor had cooked a three course meal, including having separate dishes in one course for the vegetarians and meat eaters. Right from the beginning, thought I've never been to a professor's house for dinner with a class, I imagine it diverged from what we would expect in that he insisted we drink wine. Not in a bad way, just in a polite I'm-offering-my-guests-and-want-them-to-enjoy-themselves way. We drank at least 8 bottles. As the evening went on, we were further and further gone and all manner of shenanigans started. Our professor (a german man in his 60's) and one of my friends had a fuck-shouting contest. Then there was the point later in the evening when our professor leaned in close and asked "habt ihr immer marijuana graucht?" "Have you have smoked marijuana?" In german, that's pronounced more like 'marr-i-yu-anna' and I had to explain to the guy next to me what he was asking about, which just added to the interesting feeling of the moment. He told us about one time when he was younger and did pot with a japanese exchange student and laughed so loud he woke his mom up. Then, as we descended into the end of the bottle of schnapps, and one girl was asleep face-first on his table, he started talking about the holocaust.
I, as you all know, am not particularly Jewish. As you might imagine though, there are not that many Jews in modern day Germany. Really few. There was no matzah in stores during passover because there aren't enough people who would buy it to make it worthwhile. (It was in one store, I've heard) Regardless, people find me interesting here because some haven't met Jews. This man, in his mid-60's, was alive during the first generation after the war. The people who were too small during it to remember it itself. At something like 1:30 in the morning, after the bottle of cherry schnapps that burned like whiskey, he lead in with, "Ich bin Katholiker..." I'm catholic, he said, and when I was little there was this family in our neighborhood and we knew he'd been a Nazi - someone ranking - and we'd go to church, and I'd see him there. I'd see him take communion and I though to myself, how can a man like that, such a bad man, take communion with the rest of us. And I found myself putting my arm around this man who I mostly knew for liking empty stages and liked to surprise us by saying 'fuck' in English during class, and patting his back while he cried remembering.

So, that's the most important thing that's happened to me here.