my first poem in German

In an effort to calm Robert down at a moment of relative academic stress, I composed a little poem.

Quick summary: it’s always better not to let oneself stress, because you can simply get more done when you are calm. Easy to say, not so easy to remember when I get stressed myself (which is rather often - I am not quite the master of punctuality as many can attest to). My papers are still in the process of being researched, so my stressful time is still looming ominously. I’ll try to keep calmness in mind though, and meanwhile I should probably stop blogging so much so that I can actually get some work done!

Apparently there are two grammatical errors but I just have not found them yet. Enjoy if you can read German :-)

In der Ruhe, liegt die Kraft
(Dedicated to Robertt)

Jemand sehr klug und weise hat mir einmal gesagt....
In der Ruhe, liegt die Kraft.
Ich fand das schön, aber dann ich habe gefragt
wie man das machen kann; die Laune ist doch wechselhaft.
Aber es hat sich im Laufe der Zeit
Ständig und immer und zuverlässig gezeigt,
dass wenn man alles langsamer versucht,
Dann schafft man mehr, wenn man nicht flucht
Zum Beispiel anstatt die Arbeit zu vermeiden
Nehmt man die Arbeit mit beiden Beinen
Man bekommt zurück für seinen rühigen Gedanken
Ganz viel Erfolg, was kein Person könnte schenken.

Also in der Ruhe, liegt die Kraft
Und später wenn man alles schafft,
dann kommt man ganz Stolz raus aus der Haft!

DRESDEN: A 70th Birthday Party (and hints of "Ostalgie")

<-- Instead of an "Ampelmann", in Dresden they have "Ampelmädchen"! 

This passed weekend I was in Dresden celebrating Robert's grandmother's 70th birthday. Four days later, I am eating a breakfast on a Thursday morning of boiled eggs, malt bread and coffee, hoping eventually to muster the energy for a productive afternoon of reading and writing at the FU. But first I don't want too much time to go by before I fill you in on my weekend, if only because it meant so much to me. 

There are not too many students that go on a year abroad and get to meet family where they go. I cannot say enough how warm Robert's relatives have been to me, both his grandparents on his father's side (who live in East Berlin) and his aunts, cousins, grandparents, and everybody else on his mother's side, whom I met for the first time this weekend. Not only did I get my first exposure to serious Saxon accents (nearly incomprehensible), but I experienced first-hand the importance that east German's place on laughing together, telling stories, and spending time with family, if for at least one very lavish feast a year. 

I arrived in Dresden sneezing and guzzling cough medicine. My immune system really picks the best moments to let up the fight, but as disgusting as I was and felt, I was incredibly excited to see a new city. I had gone to my guest-sister Judith's 18th birthday party dinner the night before, but chose to catch up on sleep instead of going out clubbing so that I would have the most energy possible for Brigitte, Robert's grandmother's, party. After the two hour train ride I hibernated from the cold in a cafe near the train station. In their silver Peugeot, Helmut, Katrin, Thomas and Robert picked me up at the train station and squished to make place for me in the back seat. We went over to see his grandparents, who showed us which apartment Robert and I would be sleeping in. Meanwhile Robert's aunt who works for Lufthansa really wanted to practice some English, so we had some cute conversations as we waited. They rented three apartments in a sort of soviet-looking complex just for that night so that we did not have to worry about hotel rooms and we could all stay together. Robert and I were stationed in the "young couples" apartment, with his older brother Steffan, his girlfriend Karo (short for Karoline), and Robert's cousin Katya with her boyfriend Alex. 

Once settled, we followed Günther, Robert's grandfather's, instructions (he was clearly the boss of the operation, so there was a lot of waiting for his instructions) on how to get to our first destination. We headed via tram through the center of Dresden to the Lindenhoff Hotel way up on the big hill that overlooks the city. This hotel had a restaurant surrounded by windows so that we could see the view from our incredibly long table. More people joined us at the restaurant, so that we were a group of around 30, coming from Nurenburg, Gera, Jena, Karlsruhe, some from Dresden. 

Robert's great uncle presenting his grandmother with Hungarian wine

At the Lindenhoff we were served Sekt and coffee and had our choice of a wide array of incredible cakes, something that Dresden is famous for. I had an apple-quark cake (a new favorite) while Robert had some sort of current and berry creamy something or other. His aunt explained to me the names of each of the cake and their respective ingredients, but there were dozens, too many to remember (although this information would have been useful later on). In Brigitte's speech she explained to us why they chose this particular restaurant, which was where they had their "green wedding" dinner, meaning the original wedding dinner around fifty years ago. She thanked everyone for coming and was presented with the menu and wine that they had been served on that wedding day so long ago. This was also the time for Robert and Steffan to "present" their girlfriends to the relatives, which was a bit awkward for me and seemed very traditional. But I was surprised to discover that everyone seemed excited to get to know me, asking me where I was from and what I thought of Berlin. My goodness, those cakes and the view were amazing.

A few more pieces of cakes (Robert's younger brother Thomas had a total of three) and a couple of hours later we made our way to the Bergbahn, or the sort of gondola tram that took us down the side of the hill to the Elbe river. We crossed the famous but icy blue bridge (the Nazis had wanted to destroy it at the end of the war but were thwarted by two workers who cut all the dynamite lines) to the next hotel, the Schiller House. There the real feast began. 

The "Elk Room", very warm and with large traditional paintings on the walls, was reserved just for us, with its grand table for 30 and buffet. The spread included soup, salads, pretzels, cold cuts, cheeses, fish, an entire small pig (!), chicken dishes, pasta dishes, and more desserts. Throughout the evening (in between eating and eating and eating until we could not move) we heard speeches and jokes and poems and little songs and proclamations of admiration for Brigitte. We called this the "Cultural Program". Most members of the family (those who had time) prepared something. Robert recited two longer sketches from a well-loved comedian from the DDR. Both were about animals - I must say, although I did not quite understand the jokes, I was rather proud to see Robert acting out the sketches and hear his family members' bellowing laughter. He admitted later that he doesn't understand them much either; they must only make sense to those who grew up in the DDR. 

Robert's Grandfather reciting a poem in the Elk Room

A lot of the cultural program had to do with DDR spoofs, such as a joke about an elephant who was brought into the DDR to be Lenin's example of communism, and eventually ended up in the West with no zoo and no job. This is what I mean by "Ostalgie". Ost is the German word for East, and although the DDR certainly had its drawbacks (oppressive, cannot leave, etc...), the regime was around for fifty years. This is definitely an overgeneralization, but in that time it shaped the people who lived in it, in ways that are sometimes subtle, sometimes not, and regardless these ways are not to be forgotten, or left behind.

<-- Karo and Steffan

We played a couple of games, too. The first was a riddle. We were 

given each a sheet of paper with about 20 descriptions of nonesense things that each described the name of a German candy or dessert. I certainly was at a disadvantage in this activity, and I cheated off of Robert's sheet. But I was able to guess two out of 20 all by myself. Very exciting. Plätzchen and Schillerlocke. The first are little cookies that I had baked with Judith before Christmas and the second I had learned about when I toured Schiller's house in Weimar, although I don't know what the candy is. 

The dinner lasted from around 6pm almost to midnight. I left in Karo's car to go back to the apartment (very very well-fed but still feeling a bit sick and ready for bed) while the others waited for the trams. The "kids", meaning all between the ages of 18 and 26 stayed up late playing the most intense game of UNO that I have ever played in my life. People were laying cards out right and left and I was sure that they were making up rules (I mean, we Americans invented that game, didn't we?). Lots of fun, and I think I came in second-to-last place. 

We didn't have too much time to sleep since we were requested at 8:30 for breakfast. We packed quickly and walked to Günther's apartment for bread and cold cuts and tea. We said goodbyes and thank yous. I brought some of my favorite black tea as a gift for Brigitte, so hopefully we will meet again soon in Berlin for more tea and coffee. I still cannot believe how well they were able to organize everything, and how unbelievably lavish everything was. Chapeaux to them!

Robert and I were reluctant to part with his brother's, his mother and Helmut. Robert had flown to his hometown of Karlsruhe from Breslau a couple of days earlier to see a concert there and accompany his mother for the ride to Dresden. Robert and I decided to stay a bit longer in Dresden and then go back to Berlin together, so that he could take the train from Berlin to Breslau (much more convenient) the next day. 

So after a couple of hours of promenading around the beautiful Baroque buildings and seeing the Elbe by day (and escaping the cold with hot chocolate in a ritzy cafe), our relaxed Sunday ended back in Berlin with a cheap Italian meal, unpacking, and slowly recovering from my cold. The snow-covered fields were speckled with deer on the ride to Berlin through Lower Saxony and Brandenburg... incredibly peaceful. Dresden was beautiful and impressive, and I just know that I'll be going back there sometime, if not for another family party of Robert's then for tourism with my own family (OPERA!). 

Robert and I, the Elbe River, and the Old Bridge

Both Robert and I have a lot in store for us in these next two weeks; he has just moved into his new apartment in Breslau and I am looking for books, books, books. After the excitement of the inauguration, I guess we all need to take Obama's example and get back to work! I went on a tour of the fascinating but small Schwules Museum, the "Gay Museum", yesterday with my Ethnology Tutorium, and after I had a really interesting meeting with my Immigration Theory professor at the University cafeteria. I am all business these days, but of course being in Berlin that also means fun moments in between. I'll be joining Robert again in Breslau for this weekend, which means long stretches of train-time (I am seriously my most productive while on a train) in which I can hopefully learn a few Polish words here and there in preparation for meeting his new Polish roommates... 

!OBAMANOS!

As soon as I figure out how to upload videos, I'll get some "live footage" in here...

Kate and I left our class at the FU as soon as possible to go to Nollendorfplatz. There we stood in a line that stretched an entire block. Meryl joined us and we contemplated getting food as we waited to get in. A few Germans in line were laughing at the fact that they were suddenly surrounded by "Ami's", making them essentially minorities in their home-city. Tickets in hand, we paid the 10 Euro entrance fee and found that, unfortunately, there was no food to fill our hungry stomachs inside (grrr). Oh well, that's my contribution to the American Democrats Abroad I guess. Then we discovered that there were too many people in there to move! The venue was a rather grand-looking reception hall with chandeliers and fancy cocktail bars. We squished our way to a spot where we could nearly see the video screen, and for lack of time we stayed put. And then we heard the speech, and everything else simply did not matter. I particularly loved all the storm and clearing the water metaphors; it made me feel like we are a country at sea.

I noticed that the crowd tended to cheer at very particular moments, such as whenever Obama mentioned reducing our dependency on oil, and of course they boo-ed when Bush was mentioned. I noticed some people cringing when Obama mentioned God as the guiding light and the scriptures (Germans feel very strongly that religion plays too big of a part in US politics; this they consider rather backwards). Meryl, Kate and I celebrated with a massively delicious Dürüm Döner and some Berliner Kindl beers. The wonderful Turkish man who served us made us his special guests, and gave us chocolate, extra napkins for the never-not-messy Döners, and extra pieces of "milk brownies" that we had for dessert. 

Reading the New York Times this morning has never made me more proud to be American. I never thought I would say that, but wow, it is simply the truth. Kate, who lives in DC, was half-disappointed not to be home but half thankful to have avoided the masses trampling all over her neighborhood. Maya and Jessica, I am so so excited for you that you were right at the scene and I cannot WAIT to hear about it!

Die Deutsche Kunst

We went on a great field trip last Tuesday to the Museum for German Art. The beautiful building (sort of lost in construction sites right now) was build right after the Franco-Prussian War so that Bismarck could make a huge deal of Germany’s non-French and developing nationalistic identity. My expectations lingered somewhere between ‘what the hell is “German Art”’ and ‘I’ve never even heard of this museum before’. But I was pleasantly surprised on both counts, and really enjoyed what I saw.

Cordula, a professor of Art History at Columbia and our academic director’s wife (confusing? in any case, she has accompanied us on other field trips before) gave us our very own private guided tour of the museum. She has written 500-page books on some of the painters in there, so it clearly pained her to narrow the tour down to highlights. But what we did get to see was astoundingly different, although all under the Art History category of “Romanticism”. The Casper David Friedrich’s were amazing: existential or Protestant, random or completely imbedded with symbolism… you just do not know. 

Adolph Menzel (Friedrich the Great playing the flute at Sans Souci)

We also saw the frescoes from the Casa Bartholdy in Rome, which told Old Testament stories with a secret Christian twist that Cordula enlightened us to only after we went through the stories in depth. One of the paintings had an incredibly silly-looking camel that looked a bit like the one on the cigarette ads. And then came the later pieces by the tiny and asocial Menzel, in particular the scene of Friedrich the Great playing his flute in a room resplendent with candlelight and a warm ambience. The sketch he made of his foot was also incredible; I wish I had a picture of that one. What was special about this museum is that unlike French Impressionists or Mary Casatte, one will never really get a chance to see this art outside of Germany. That is probably why I knew so little about it before, and also why the tour was so fascinating.

Casper David Friedrich (man overwhelmed by nature)

Mondays, StaBi days, and Brownie days

Berlin in the snow, Dudenstrasse, and our kitchen in a messy, well-loved state...

My Mondays simply start late. The best thing about my week is that it doesn't officially begin until 4pm (or 16:00) on Monday afternoons. So today, I woke up at around 9:30 to my charming cell-phone ring, pulled my laptop onto my lap, and then, warm and cozy in my bed I wrote a three-page assignment for my German class about how the world heating up would not exactly be a good thing. I could have checked the grammar a bit better (as I learned later when it was corrected), but the sun was shining and it was time for my midday breakfast. The milk that I poured into my cornflakes-muesli-banana bowl was unfortunately, well, curdling, something that I noticed while pouring myself a glass after eating my breakfast (whoops, my stomach sang songs all day as a result). And the sun this morning - I hesitate in stating this for fear that it will be gone as quickly as it came - was bright and wonderful. 

So now I am in bed after attending my four-hour German class at the FU and making a dill-potato soup, that I am saving for tomorrow (somehow I was not that hungry for a 10pm dinner tonight). I am thinking about the process of writing these blogs. As compared to EB's and Jenni's blogs, I have been writing more thematically, rather than daily. That means, for one thing, that certain themes require a lot more thoughts then others. Therefore I tend to overlook the daily stuff in exchange for mammoth entries about, say, humor in Berlin (after five months I still don't understand that one), or spontaneous trips to the Baltic. And the big one, that I've been putting off until, well, let's face it I'm still putting it off, is actually getting around to talking about SCHOOL. As in classes, as in German, as in what I am doing each and every day and how I structure my seemingly abstract time here in Berlin. It will come soon, I promise. Although probably not in a timely fashion... 

Since Morgan, Aileen and Robert left (both Morgan and Aileen had various delays and difficulties due to the five-or-so centimeters of snow on the ground in Berlin) last Monday I have been steadily moving towards the road to academic accomplishment. By that I mean that I have managed to write no less than three papers in the past week, two for my Ethnology class and one for my German class. Getting practice writing "academically" in German is the most important part; topically I am not really pushing the thought-provoking frontiers of Ethnology quite yet. 

And not to worry, the StaBi has not yet consumed my soul. It did suck 25-euros out of my wallet (that's 25-euros less in my highly cherished funds, since the DAAD gives me my scholarship money in monthly increments and I am running a bit dry for January already!). And even with that I can't even take books out from there until I bring them my passport to prove that I'll be sticking around for a while. Man, these libraries are a piece of work. One would never expect the amount of work involved simply to GET to a place where one can get to work. 

I shall explain. In the StaBi (again, that's the nickname for Berlin's public library), which is an unquestionably gorgeous and regal building, with the words "Preussische Stadtbibliotek" engraved into its imposing gray stone, the first challenge is to enter the building. This may sound quite simple, but there are three unmarked entrances and the doors look so old and large that one would not expect that the strength of man could open them. The first two that I tried of course were incorrect, both "staff" entrances and closed to the public. After making it in, one is immediately overwhelmed by the complicated menu of what's on what floor. Once I got fed up, I just walked straight ahead. I was very tempted to walk up the beautiful wide staircase to the floors that I presumed held books and workspaces in some organized arrangement... but first the jacket, the bag, the purse, everything on you pretty much just has to go. There is a coat check just for this purpose (which is thankfully free, and usually has the only friendly staff member in the entire library). Then I needed to dig deep into my wallet/purse in order to find a one-euro coin, so that I could put my bagpack into a locker, that is inevitably barely large enough for a Berlin rat. 

But why, you may ask, can one not bring a bagpack into a place where one is planning on doing work? Very good question. I think the fear is stealing - either that or they think it's just fun to over-monitor everything that goes on in their libraries. One is given a plastic bag at the coatcheck, since, thankfully, one is allowed to bring other books into this prestigious building of books. Heaven help anyone who even thinks of stealing an 1800 bound theological text or something of that nature (they don't have new books in this library)... they'll just see it right through that clear plastic bag of yours. 

Okay, now I was ready to go in. But no, first I was indicated to exit the building entirely (going to where it is cold, also known as outside), and then go in a different entrance. Then the man waiting at the little useless reception desk (they don't perform usual "reception" functions here, so needless to say, to get my library membership I had to go to a different place) gave me a bookmark for every book that I brought in which he would later count when I left again. I also got a piece of paper saying that he authorized my entry for the acquirement of a pass. I asked where I could get a pass, and he said just follow the signs. Oh good. As if that would be easy. I followed, I followed, and followed, up the grand staircase, down a long hallway that smelled of hospital, into a computer room (asked at the desk there, thought i'd found it... but that would have been too easy), up another skinnier flight of stairs into a musky-smelling reading room with wood shelves and tables, contemplated just sitting and taking a break, then through two sets of doors and tadum! Anmeldung. Registration. Four more flights higher than I would have expected it to be. A desk for the purpose of taking out books and getting library passes. 

The lacking my passport thing was the only obstacle from there (and the reception guy forgot to give me a bookmark for my dictionary, which he actually apologized for on my way out). After spending a bit of time in there I was finally able to appreciate the atmosphere, and I even got a substantial amount of reading done. But unfortunately, as there was no food or water allowed in the library itself (this is another of my raging frustrations with German libraries), my gurgling tummy got the best of me. I went on the hunt for snacks. Oh how I dearly miss Ex-Libris, and the practice of bringing multiple mugs of tea as well as a fresh supply of fruit in the Reg in Chicago! To my surprise and delight there was a small cafeteria room in the basement, where I found a wonderfully cheap coffee machine. Fancy coffee. A fancy espresso-spitting vending machine for the soul purpose of appeasing people who were pissed at the over-complicated library systems. Or at least that is how that vending machine and I became friends - I vented, and it fed me warm drinks. I mean, it had three different options for the hot chocolate: with milk, with water, with cream. So the 25-euros and the maze of stairs and the coat checking and the reception guy is in some ways, worthwhile.

That was my adventure on Wednesday, after two students in my Ethnology class pointed out where the public library was on their way to the cafeteria at the Humboldt. What I am finding difficult, now that I have been here for a while and the surprise and interest of me as an American exchange student has sort of worn off, is to follow up on these friendships. I have met great people in my classes, really cool, people studying Finnish and who spent a year after high school working in meat markets in Australia and the like. People who dress well, and dress down and make it look good. People who make incredible comments in class, comments that make me think twice about what I read the night before (if I managed to understand the reading, that is). And although I did have lunch with two really nice girls at the Humboldt before break, and although I have good passing conversations with a couple of people before and after class, and although I have a couple of emails of students that I've met at the Freie Uni who study English and think it's cool that I'm American, how can I actually convey to them that I want them to become my friend? How can you turn an email from someone working on a presentation with you to a totally casual hanging-out or getting coffee on the weekends? Part of me wants to just email and say, I'm not new here anymore, but I am still an international student, and I'm here to get to know Germans, so can you let me know if you know of any parties and then can you invite me to one? Okay, now I'm venting a bit. And I'm answering my own question: I guess it does take a dose of intentionality at first. It's not such a crime to be incredibly honest and say, I'd like to meet people, please help. 

What's great about having a German class with Erasmus students (that's the big exchange-student network for people in Universities in the European Union), is that they appreciate the difficulty in making friends. One girl, an Italian named Chiara, was telling me how surprised she was at how little Germans reach out to exchange students. She sort of expected that it worked like at her University in Bologna, where people hang out for at least half an hour after class just chatting and finding out when they could all meet up again next. It's refreshing to learn that I'm not alone here. And I assume that those same problems apply for german students too, particularly those who did not grow up in Berlin or wherever town their school is in. People stay friends with their high school friends in such a way that it is not necessary to make new friends in University. It takes a while to meet people in such a huge school in such a huge city; it's not easy to find good roommates, or to find the right club or team. 

And speaking of roommates! Mine is coming back MANANA, tomorrow, from her epic month-long trip to Columbia, where she spent Christmas with Diego's family and friends. Anna was supposed to arrive on Friday, but a major snowstorm in Madrid caused her flight to be cancelled. That's crazy, right? Snow in Madrid? Then I heard that starting Sunday the plane company, Iberia I believe (?), decided to go on strike. So at least that sounds more normal for Spain than weather-related delays. But Anna has been stranded in Caracas, Venezuela for the weekend and has been trying to call her nearly frantic parents (who live in Freiburg, south-west Germany, near Heidelberg) whenever possible. Her Mom then calls me and tells me the news. The most recent update is that she's left Caracas and will be spending the night in a Hotel in Madrid, before finally flying to Berlin in the morning. I will have to juggle my time a bit to be home to let her in, but I cannot wait to see her and have another person to cook with at night again. I will have to yell at her at some point for being gone for so long, because, although it's been quiet, I am just about done with having this apartment entirely to myself. 

So the rest of the week went as follows:

Wednesday: class and library troubles at the StaBi.

Thursday: skipping my optional class (come on, I'm not getting credit for it anyways) to have tea with Gerd (my former employer? see "Rennfieber" entry from December) and Jenni (who is taking over my job in which I was supposed to get discovered by Hollywood). That was followed by similar library struggles, except this time at the Freie Universitat library. How can they possibly expect me to know my password, when they never gave it to me in the first place? Oh well. Kate, Jenni and I then met up late that night to go to the small Yorckstrasse movie-theater, where we saw the oddly exciting film Jerichow with an incredibly good-looking actor (robert, forgive me) named Benno Fuermann. The moon was full, and the walk home in the cold was quiet and peaceful. 

Friday: a non-optional class, and then a coincidental run-in with Nancy's son's girlfriend Julia, who recognized me in the small cafeteria under the Law building. Oh how proud I was to be recognized among so many on that campus! It was great to spend time chatting with her, and still a bit unbelievable that we both happened to be in that cafeteria at the same time. I then SUCCEEDED at taking out five books on Johann Gottfried Herder for my Intellectual History in Berlin class, all of which may be somewhat helpful for my research paper. That night Jenni, Kate and I met up again and ate pizza at a great (and tiny) Italian restaurant. We then went out for some cocktails (I had a... Polar Bear?) and turkish cookies around the Kottbusser Tor area. 

Saturday: Meryl King is in town! Who needs to attend Chicago when Chicago comes to visit you? She is doing a month-long German program at, surprise surprise, the exact same Uni that I am at, the Freie Universitat. We met by her U-Bahn station in the town of Charlottenburg, where she is staying with a German host. I am really glad to be able to pass along some surviving-in-Berlin wisdom to Meryl, who is steadily getting her German back from our time in Dagmar's class freshman year. Our big accomplishments were getting a month-transportation pass and then buying a sim-card for her Turkish/European cell-phone, which we celebrated with tasty breakfasts at the Kant Cafe. We then did a big walking tour all along the Kudamm and then from Potsdamer Platz to the Gates and down Unter den Linden, where we made a side-stop at the Komisch Oper's annual costume sale to check out the crazy costumes and old wooden furniture (see picture). A quiet night of resting my feet and defrosting with tea ensued.

Sunday: Skyping day, chilling day, day of finishing "The Story of Doctor Dolittle" (what a great christmas gift), movie-watching day ("Little Miss Sunshine", also a great christmas gift), a SLEDDING day, or at least a day for enjoying the frigid sunshine and taking pictures while watching kids in big puffy coats climb onto wooden sleds on the Kreuzberg, and finally, a day for dinner parties and brownie baking. Meryl came over (didn't even get lost!) to help with the brownies, and we went together to Jenni's apartment (which is not far, a walk) for a seriously gourmet feast. Pork tenderloins with delicious things stuffed inside, Quinoa-and-Fennel-Pilaf, lots of good wine, an impressive assortment of cheese, home-made caramel corn (to die for), and last but certainly not least fudgy, slightly undercooked, sweet, made-from-a-mix, real American-style Brownies.

Monday: Well, Monday is almost over. Actually it ended two hours ago. I'd like to think that I recovered quickly from the jetlag, what with the beer-tasting and fun of having Morgan here... but like I said, my Mondays simply start late. 

(By the way, I promise that I won't go day-to-day in my entries from now on. It was just a fun new experiment, and a nice divergence from typing in German)

Weihnachtszeit

No matter where one goes in Berlin in December, Christmas marks the city. There are lit angels hanging from street lamps and the smell of Bratwurst lingers in the streets. A mug of overwhelmingly sweet Gluehwein makes the early sunsets bearable and even adds a touch of coziness to the thin winter air. But what I found most comfortable, most satisfying, and most wonderful this Christmas was actually spending time away from the mayhem of German Weihnachtsmaerkte in order to be in Boston, to be at home. Spending time getting to know what it is like being with family again brings many more rewards than challenges. 

Notable things from pre-vacation: having a seriously annoying cold in Berlin for a good two weeks before leaving for Boston, experiencing my first visit to the doctor's at a "throat-nose-ear" office nearby, attempting to cure myself with their recommended herbal remedies, seeing Die Fledermaus at the Komisch Oper and thereby introducing Robert to that operatic family tradition,  FINALLY seeing Jilly McVicar to catch up and talk about Berlin over a Turkish-brunch, eating Fondue for the first time with Jenni, Jenni's mother and Kate and topping the evening off with Kate's Christmas Stollen, having a German-styled Christmas at Robert's grandparent's house with "Kaninchen" and the first lighting of various small wooden figures that smoke, making an attempt at non-stressful Christmas shopping at the Operahouse christmas market, and having wonderful pre-christmas meals at Nancy's house and at my guest-family's house before heading home. Needless to say eating, and eating well, was a big theme this holiday.

Looking ahead: I have around six weeks before the end of the semester. Robert and I returned from the States yesterday. We found the apartment being well used by the wonderful Morgan and the energetic Aileen, both dear friends from Chicago. My roommate will join me again mid-January from her voyage to Colombia, and in three weekends I plan on meeting Robert and his mother's family in Dresden for his grandmother's 70th birthday. After that EB will be coming for a visit (which will certainly involve German beer and probably some Gluehwein) after seeing Erin in Paris and before meeting friends in Poland. 

But until then, I shall get to know a different side of Berlin: the state-libraries. I will register at the "Stadtbibliothek", a.k.a. the StaBi (not to be confused with the Stasi, which spied on and tortured people in the DDR) and STAY there until I make progress on my research papers. The due dates are creeping up on me, and there is still so much German left to master (or attempt to) before feeling the sense of accomplishment that accompanies a semester abroad. 

For now, I am enjoying a calm evening after a hearty dinner with Morgan, Robert and Aileen, one accompanied by Hefeweise, dark, and light German beer and some variety of meat with potatoes. I am currently quite content doing nothing but drinking peppermint tea, cleaning and unpacking while listening to old Will Smith albums with Robert, who returns to Breslau in a couple of days. I am gradually getting ready for classes (or at least reacquainting myself with the mindset of a student) and I am planning on a late night skype-call home. A saturday night cozy indoors while the snow falls quietly outside (snowing, in Berlin?!?). Contrastingly, Morgan and Aileen are out partaking in the Berlin club culture, exactly as they should.

(Robert in my father's "superman" snow suit at home in Boston)

Fur alle, die meine bescheidenden Worten hier lesen, ich bedanke mich herzlich bei euch und verspreche euch mehr. Ich wuensche euch auch einen wunderbaren Rutsch ins Neues Jahr, und einen gemuetlichen Winter, der uns jetzt in Berlin schoenen und ruhigen Schnee bietet. 

my 21st birthday: the BALTIC SEA, lasagna and Gluhwein

How is it that the most memorable moments happen when one is totally caught off guard? The best presents are the surprises, what one would never ask for but would love to have. Robert gave me the surprise of a lifetime as my 21st birthday present: a rented car and a getaway to the island of Usedom, on the Baltic Sea. 

Although I wasn’t expecting Robert until Thursday, he rung the doorbell at 7pm just as I was about to head to the grocery store. Is someone dropping off a package?- I didn’t recognize his voice and went downstairs expecting a DHL delivery man. Ah! A day early! I had expected to have a quiet weekend in Berlin, but he gradually gave me more and more information. I was to pack warm clothing, not worry about fitting everything into one bagpack since I could bring a suitcase, bring some good walking shoes, and go with him food shopping for milk, eggs, bottled water, necessities. I could pack some CD’s and movies, bring some books, and plan for about a 3-4 hour ride to wherever it was that we were going. We were going to meet “someone” at precisely noon right in the center of town the next day. I asked ten times whom it was that we were going to “meet”; he responded that he doesn’t know this person, and neither do I. Hmmm… what could he mean by that?

We were packed and ready to go, but we left our luggage in my apartment (fishy, I thought…how could we meet someone to take a trip with without having our luggage?). A half-hour later, we follow an address that Robert had written down to a car rental place. A car rental place?!? True, people we do not know and a good reason to pick up the luggage later! Luckily Robert had his driver’s license with him after all (sort of panic moment there…), and the company ran out of Peugeots (his preferred choice), so they had to give us a B-class Mercedes. With a good sound system, fabulous gas mileage, and lots of trunk space. We nicknamed it Dax, which means “badger”, since it sort of looked like one.

So Robert, Dax and I survived Berlin traffic and headed through the snow-covered fields of empty Brandenburg. An hour later we were in Mecklenburg-Vorpommern (the northern province where Angela Merkel is from) and then we were greeted by a sign on the bridge, Wilkommen an der Insel Usedom.

We stayed in a little vacation house near the village of Korosow (not to be confused with Kosovo which I did many times). A short walk away in one direction was the Baltic sea, its calmer, land-sheltered side. A slightly longer walk away in the other direction was again the Baltic sea, but much stormier and with bigger waves. The beach itself reminded me a bit of cape-cod, except that on Usedom dense pine forests began right where the sand ended. Lots of shells, very few people, and general tranquility.

On Saturday we took a daytrip to Stralsund, an ocean town where Bush once stayed for a G8 summit (yes, apparently he goes to those). But more importantly, here is the home of two really important “Ocean-museums” – the Baltic Sea Museum and the “Oceaneum”, both complete with aquariums. The first museum is actually a remnant from DDR times, put together in the 70's I believe, and they left everything exactly as it was, meaning that it was a sort of museum of a museum. For instance, every animal species on display (many birds, some turtles, all things found in the Baltic) were labeled in German, Russian and Polish. Robert remembered going to this museum when he was little with his grandparents. 

Contrastingly, the Oceaneum was brand new, totally high-tech (heavily Greenpeace-influenced movies, cool maps), and had a huge darkly lit room with life-size models of a blue, orca, humpback, and sperm whale.

Germany’s very own Squid-and-the-Whale display! On the floor of this gigantic room they had lounge chairs set up so that you could just chill there listening to whale sounds and feel tiny in comparison to the massive mammals above.

Perhaps the last thing that one should do after visiting an aquarium is eating the pretty fish that one just saw swimming around. 

Well, that’s just what we did. We drove onto Ruegen, Germany’s largest island and a really popular tourist spot (particularly for east Germans back in the day since that was pretty much the only place they could go). We found our Lonely-planet-recommended restaurant in the tiny itsy bitsy town of Binz. We then went back to Usedom to pack up the car again and get ready to leave the next morning.

But finally, I turn twenty one! Six hours earlier than in Boston, too. We didn’t leave Usedom without a first birthday hoorah and a last walk on the beach. The weather had been foggy but peaceful the three days that we were there. But on Sunday December 7th, my birthday morning, we woke up early enough to catch the sunrise. We walked through some forest to a large cow pasture, and finally to the rougher side. We watched the waves for a while, totally overwhelmed at the beautiful scenery on and around the beach.

Back to Berlin, and considering there is no speed limit on German highways we made it to Kreuzberg an hour earlier than expected. When we came home my roommate and her parents, who were still visiting, showered me with birthday wishes. I found that my roommate had made a quark-cake for me in my absence and had bought the ricotta cheese we needed -which is awfully hard to find here- to start making lasagnas. The rest of the afternoon was spent chilling in the kitchen and making sauces to Eliza’s Motown mixes playing on my computer. We ended up with three big lasagnas, two meat and one veggie, a big tomato-mozzarella salad, garlic bread, and I believe no less than 8 bottles of Gluhwein (and of course some Amaretto to go with it).

Fifteen people came to my birthday dinner, including Nancy and her son Jan and my guest family. We drank all eight bottles throughout the night, ate all but ½ of the lasagnas, finished the salad, and devoured the cake. I was glad that no one minded sitting on the floor since we have relatively few chairs in our apartment. Everyone seemed to bring either wine or baked goods, even Kate brought me a Stollen, traditional German Christmas bread filled with sugar and nuts and raisons. My guest family gave me a much-awaited appliance for making Kaese-spaetzle, along with the recipe. Nancy shopped at her favorite store, the Oxfam bookstore in Kaiser-Wilhelm Platz, and gifted me an excitingly cheesy looking novel about the history of Poland, a dictionary to help me learn “Berlinerisch”, and a book of poems written by women in Berlin.

I hate to end this entry on a cheesy note, but I end most of my blogs with some sentimental “looking-to-the-future” sentence… so I’ll just say that I felt so incredibly proud and touched that the people that have made Berlin a home for me all came to help me celebrate the big 2-1. I know a more typical 21st involves a heavy amount of liquor and cheap beer, but I’m very content to save that for my first legal bar-crawl in Boston. Perhaps on New Years…?

Also, thank you so much, oh grand anonymous reader, for the nice Facebook messages and birthday emails. I’m hoping for yet another cake back in Boston, so that I can share it with my Mom, whose birthday was on the 6th. But then again, four-days straight of “birthday” is probably enough for one year.

(above: opening presents; below: quark-cake!)