New expanses of roadway snaked through the rural countryside while picturesque hills framed the small villages visible in the distance. As we drove towards them, I almost convinced myself that it was Kentucky until the red tiled roofs and timber trimmed adobe houses reminded me that it was indeed "Deutschland," or Germany. Over the next few weeks, the trip I made with the American Cheer Express staff, Michelle Whieldon and BJ Clarke, on their 2004 summer camp tour through Germany would frequently blur the lines between being a student and being a teacher.

On that first day in August, we sped toward our destination, Giessen, a college town north of Frankfurt. Unable to find our hotel, we encountered one of many kind strangers we would meet in the next few weeks. A little lady in a flowered skirt with a car full of maps and books, who spoke excellent English appeared and said, "Follow me!" Fifteen minutes later, she deposited us in front of our hotel, where we tried to demonstrate to her the purpose of our visit. She recognized cheerleading motions, and with a smile and a wave, sped on her way.

As tired as we were, we liked our hotel immediately. It was not fancy, but sort of a retro modern old building with bleached blond furnishings and plump duvets on the beds. More importantly, it was within walking distance to the Market Platz, or shopping area, and just five minutes from a local Internet Cafe. At breakfast, we met a retired American couple who had come to Germany to teach and shared their many tips on places to eat, sites to see, how much to tip, and how to order bottled water without "gas" or carbonation.

Having arrived on Saturday, we began to explore the town on a cool, foggy, wet morning. It was weather we would come to expect during our trip. Frequently, there would be up to four weather changes in one day. Our American shorts, tank tops, and sandals would never make it out of the suitcases, giving us excuses to purchase warmer German shoes, jackets, and slacks to wear.

Walking through the cobblestone streets, we saw that Germany's town life has been perfected over centuries. There are no slums in the countryside. The narrow streets are restricted mostly to pedestrians and lined with one of a kind shops. Parking on the sidewalk is expected, and smaller cars are very convenient because maneuvering through the tight spaces is very tricky. In fact, there was one model of car so small that it looked chopped in half with no hood. Yet, this was a college town, and hip young stores like H & M were as large as department stores, and Puma leather and suede shoes were to be found everywhere.

We discovered that we had stumbled into town on festival weekend, and after lunching on grilled bratwursts, we shopped among the throngs of people. Finding only one English speaking person to assist me in translating the fashion sizes, I retired to a sidewalk cafe and consoled myself with a hot Cappuccino and a dish of excellent German ice cream. The ACE staff, however, shopped as if they were possessed. Orange leather and Cranberry corduroy fashions were tempting, while cool pink cashmere and pale blue suede beckoned.

As the sun lowered in the sky, the crowd began gathering around a center stage on the square. Behind the masses, I glimpsed two costumed figures, one of which seemed to be flying through the air as if practicing a partner stunt. But wearing rhinestones? The mystery was soon solved as local dance teams began taking the stage, introduced in German to thunderous applause. We soon saw why.

The dancers were mostly coed teams doing moves we had never seen to American Rock and Roll. We burst out laughing when the soundtrack to Grease suddenly blared from the speakers. Adding a combination of acrobatics and aerobics, the Germans have stolen our rock and roll dance and perfected it. We saw acrobatic tricks like Birds, Stags, and Scoops; just muscled up as their circling bodies and kicking feet rarely stopped moving to the music. It looked like so much fun that we wanted to steal it back. Later, we introduced ourselves and regretted not bringing coed staff ourselves to stunt with them. They responded that they wanted ACE to take them to America to tour. What a hoot! We compromised with an exchange of website addresses.

On our first camp day, the campers ranged in age from six to sixteen. We faced many challenges in overcoming ability differences, but the older girls progressed to prep cradle, and the younger ones seemed to enjoy the dances and chants. The day flew by, and afterward we drove to the local Wal Mart to replace essentials left at home. It was so strange to be unable to read a single sign in such familiar surroundings, meaning we spent much time searching through the aisles. The product options also seemed much more limited than what we expected at home. In addition, we could not find ribbon, the fruit came from Italy, bottled water was only available carbonated, the carry out food was primarily olives and cheeses, and we had to bag our own purchases. Yet, this Wal Mart sure seemed a hit with the German shoppers.

The next few days of camp went swiftly by, and after final performances and awards, we packed up and headed south of Frankfurt. Arriving in a cold, pouring rain, we were thrilled to find that this hotel had English speaking TV channels to watch the Olympic Games, English printed magazines, and English speaking staff. Like kids in a candy store, we chattered at our good fortune. It was our first inkling that every few days we would need our "American Dose."

Hanau, home to the Grimm brothers of fairy tale fame, held its camp in a sports facility with vaulted ceilings and gleaming floors. As at the first camp, this camp staff was warm and welcoming. By camp number two, we had the curriculum perfected, anticipating what material would best suit the camper's needs and how they would be divided.