Cult Ure Sho Ck

Culture shock is a funny thing. It takes on many forms. So far my symptoms include mild annoyance, awe, wonder, bouts of anger and helplessness. For 4 weeks now I have been vacillating between totally elation, complete despair and everything in between.
Its a weird thing to come to a country where you don't know the language. By yourself. For no real defined purpose. Yep. I did this. I chose it. This I know. And perhaps the strangest thing is that I still know its the right decision. As uncomfortable as I am. As awkward as I feel almost every minute of almost everyday so far. Berlin called me here. Sounds crazy. Sounds sentimental. Sounds impossible. But its true. And while I meet new wonderful people here daily, I feel very alone. And while I see miracles everywhere, I still question what this is all about. When the glamor fades I am left to deal with myself. I don't wish to complain. It may seem that way. But I am trying to own this. To walk in it. To draw strength from it. But I would be lying if I said it always made sense.

But I have to believe it will subside. The longing to be someplace familiar. The feeling of isolation. Because in reality I am not alone. And the facts are these: I was called here for a purpose. My home is wherever I am. As long as I stay with myself, I will be just fine. But I am trying to get these very evolved thoughts into my spirit. Into my body so that I can believe.

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Ausländerbehörde

You can find beauty everywhere if you are looking for it. I stood in line for almost 2 hours today at immigration. Immigration. That’s right, I said it. For the first time in my life, I am fully at the mercy of governing authorities. And as an American, this is very humbling.

I took the U2 to the U9 and when I got off the train I began to follow them. The huddled masses. The people that for one purpose or another are trying to defect. Trying to make a home in some place other than where they were born. And I know we all do this for different reasons. For work. For relationships. For religious freedom. But I come for love. For the love of a place that I barely know. Someone said the other day that Berlin is a wonderful city for runaways. Someone else said that it is one of the cities of angels. Los Angeles being one and they couldn’t remember the third.

But I stood in line today with an American, a Russian, an Italian, a Spaniard and an African and her beautiful son. And in broken English we shared the time, the boy picking flowers, the ladies laughing, the man putting him on his shoulders. And we were all there for different reasons. Different situations, histories and goals. But as we stood there together we were the same. 

And it was so very beautiful. 

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Making Wishes

Ive been in Berlin for a week now, staying here in the apartment of my dear friend Patrick. And very early into this trip I started to notice the differences in our living styles. Sometimes your very best friends can be the most incompatible roommates. So when he left on Tuesday to go to Munich to visit his family for Easter break I was scarred and relieved. Scared to really have to navigate this huge city on my own but happy that we would both be getting a little space.

In the afternoon, after he left, I was sitting by myself in the living room and I closed my eyes and made a wish. I asked Berlin to find me a place to stay for free by the time Patrick returned on the 17th. I realize it may seem strange to ask a city for something, but since I feel sure that Berlin and I have that kind of relationship, it seemed the most obvious thing to do.

My dinner plans in the evening were with two fabulous ladies (both named Susanne funny enough) that I met at a big industry Berlinale party the first time I was here in February. They both live within a block of each other in Prenzlauerberg which is a nice and somewhat posh area here in Berlin (depending on who you are asking). I took the U2 from Nollendolfplatz to Shonehauser Alle and then grabbed another train to the Prenzlauer Alle station. When I got outside and called the ladies they tried to tell me where to go but the combination of my lack of direction and their limited english skills proved to be a frustrating combo. "Ok, you stay right where you are and we will come and pick you up!" My beating myself up for not having a better sense of direction was rapidly put to a stop by their quick and enthusiastic arrival. They honked the horn- smiling and waving. "Hey pretty ladies, can I get a ride?"

We hopped in the car and drove a few blocks. We chatted a bit and I briefly mentioned how I was looking for work and a place to stay when Patrick comes home. "Not to worry," Susanne #1 exclaims, "You will be staying in my flat while I am away in Greece for 3 weeks!" I laughed at what I thought to be a very sweet joke.

After walking up the stairs in this charming old building, we opened the door to her second floor apartment...
Beautiful.
High ceilings, hard wood floors, elegant decorations and beautiful colors. I found out within a few minutes that she is a designer in Berlin and she has her own company. I told her how much I loved her place and how talented she was. "And just think, we will be neighbors!" says Susanne #2.

"Are you serious?"
"Of course, said Susanne #1, "Im real."
"And when do you leave?"
"I leave on the 17th."
"Of course you do," I said with a smile.
Berlin strikes again!

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Flee Market

Prenzlauerberg has an outdoor fair when the weather is good. And the very second that this place is in view, I know it is unlike anything else. I wandered down the green to a stadium type area made of stone. The crowd was cheering and laughing. Some seated, some dancing. I was pleased to find that it was simply an impromptu gathering of enthusiastic audience members and random karaoke singers. Just standing there. Singing their hearts out. For better or worse, they didn't care. And what did they get in return for their honesty? Total support.
I wandered through the flee market. Everything from tribal art to war fatigues to dirty naked statues to frying pans abounded. Folk art. CDs. T-shirts and handmade hats. The espresso pot that I wanted was zwolf euros (thats 12 ;-) so I decided to buy some food instead.
I wonder as I sit here and write if all the people around, young and old, know that they are changing my life...
Bratwurst: 2 Euros
Ein Berliner Bier: 2 Euros and 50
Listening to the Dj spin soft tunes as I sit half a world away from my birthplace and feel totally at home:
Priceless.

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Riding the Bus

My first day here in the city this time around went something like this...
Realizing that Verizon Wireless has no decent international service I needed to get a pre-paid telephone. Realizing that my laptop was on its last leg of battery I needed to get a European outlet converter. So in  the morning I was given a key to my friends apartment where I am staying and a map of Berlin. I was on my way to a mall in Potsdamer Platz. So I walked up the street to the bus stop and as I sat down on the bench I realized that I had never taken public transportation. Alone. In my life.

Ok.
So the M48 pulls up (I think thats the one I needed) I gave the bus driver my 2 and 10... she was smiling. A nice start. I took my seat across from an unfriendly older looking man who made brief eye contact then looked away. I stayed on the bus for a few stops and started to look at my map to figure out where I was supposed to get off. I soon exited and started to walk a little further up the street. Realizing that I was not there yet I asked a man if he spoke english. "A little," was his and seems to be the common reply. "2 more stops."
Ok.
So I walk and get back on the bus. Same bus driver. Nice.
I do my bit of shopping. Even harder to shop for electronics than usual without the use of language. But I get what I need and walk across the street to the other side to wait for my bus. I get out my 2 and 10 for the return as the M48 pulls up again. The door opens and I am greeted by the same smiling bus driver. She waved me on without paying. It wasnt until later when I realized how slim the odds were of being picked up by the same bus driver 3 times that I understood the message. Berlin will take care of me.

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