"I am not a visitor."

" Night and day, you are the one / Only you beneath the moon, under the sun "

Yes, the Cologne Cathedral (or, in German, the Kölner Dom) is quite a sight. Your first impression is that it reaches unbelievable, majestic heights and stretches from east to west, farther than you could possibly imagine, especially knowing that construction began in 1248.

But this post is not about experiencing the Dom as one of the day's 20,000 visitors. Today, I was not a visitor.

No, I'd been to the Dom several times before. In fact, my very first full day in Cologne, my HM brought me here. We took the subway, and as I made my way out of the main station, I could see through the station's floor-to-high-ceiling glass main entrance, wondering at the full height of the Gothic structure, which was not visible until we were outside.

I mean, wow.

I'd also been to the Dom twice before for Mass and another evening for an organ concert, which the cathedral hosts every Tuesday evening during the summer, free to the public. On these evenings the pews, the kneelers, and even floor space are packed. Locals who know better bring lawn chairs. The air is filled completely with the reverberating sighs and groans of the organ.

Today I went again for Mass. Attending a German-language Mass is a lot like attending an English-language Mass, except that there are only so many phrases and words during the sermon you can understand -- that's why you start to space out, and most of the hymns don't have a regular meter, and after the first verse of the hymns you have to keep one finger on the musical notation and another finger on the subsequent verses that are printed below the music, and they pronounce Latin with a German twist.

When you attend a German-language Mass at the Kölner Dom, be prepared for the bouncer, who filters the faithful from the tourists as they bottleneck their way down the central aisle, swerving around gaggles of flashing cameras and diving through the white noise of multilingual awe. Today, as I approached the bottleneck, the bouncer was making his usual announcement, in both German and English:

"Only for worship, please. No visitors."

Side note:  Actually, that's kind of misleading, now that I think about it. He should really say, "No tourists," or perhaps, "No distracting, non-worshiping, non-Bible-curious tourists," as churches generally welcome visitors. That's kind of the idea. All are welcome. In fact, today's gospel reading (Luke 14:1, 7-14) encouraged us to invite even "the poor, the crippled, the lame, the blind."

I had heard this before so I simply kept walking, but I was cut off by the bouncer's arm right as I was about to pass, like a candy cane-striped gate that unexpectedly lowers at a railroad crossing when all you want to do is drive home.

Mr. Bouncer repeated his mantra, "Only for worship."

Okay, so here's what I'm thinking at this particular moment.

Yes, I heard you. I understood you both times, in German and English. I am here to worship. Do you have a problem with that? Or do I just look too much like an Asian tourist for you to handle?

Never before today had I felt so self-aware of my "Asian-ness" in Germany as I did just then. Feeling irritation building inside of me, I looked him in the eye and said simply (in German), "Yes, exactly." Yes, I know, thanks very much, that's what I'm here for.

He said an "entschuldigung" ("excuse me") and his arm of barrier became a gesture of please come forward.

Oh, but boy was I pissed. I sat on a pew, a bit shaken and not liking the feeling of being racially profiled. I was determined, however, to not let it bother me. I was there because I wanted to find peace on a Sunday morning. I was there to sing with joy.

Yet, I understood that he was doing his job. With eight masses a day and tens of thousands of sheep to sort, one can't help but organize all of that data into general categories. And in the past he'd probably had to stop a good deal of clueless Asian tourists wanting to snap photos of the stained glass windows.

My anger was now redirecting itself from the bouncer to the hordes of Chinese tourists around the world who chatter loudly, block pathways whilst taking photographs, and generally don't exhibit much of the kind of decorum that is valued in the Western world.

Okay, I thought, that's not helping, either. And I knew I couldn't blame a poor Chinese soul for walking down the aisle, trying to see more of a spectacular architectural treasure, when in all likelihood they didn't understand the message that had been said in German and English. Who knows...?

In the end, I could forgive the misunderstanding and was able to peacefully participate in the service and soak in the sounds of Barber's Adagio for Strings (as transcribed for organ) during communion.

I mean, wow.

Still, perhaps for future use and as a preventative measure I'll hang a sign around my neck that says something to the effect of:

"I am not a visitor."

          I am not a "visitor."
          I am, in fact, an American student, who happens to have Asian heritage and would thus like to apologize, on their behalf, for any rude Chinese tourists you might have encountered. My ancestors apologize, too.
          I am here in Germany with the support of the German and US governments.
          I am a musician and sing all of the hymns louder and more confidently than anyone else in this 85,000 sq ft cathedral.
          I have music degrees from M.I.T. and Yale. (Admittedly not relevant.)
          Also, just by the way, I am Catholic.
          Peace be with you.

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Disclaimer:  This piece is not meant to illustrate animosity, but rather to serve simply as an anecdote.