My trip to the Zoo with Mom

My Mom and my Aunt Thomasin came to Berlin!  They went to a lot of museums and such.  I went with them to a few places, but my favorite day by far was when I went to the Berlin Zoo with my mom.  I'm always skeptical of zoos, but this one was very good.  The animals seemed happy, healthy and had ample space to roam and be themselves.  I'll let the pictures do the talking.

Elephants are always tricky.  It's easy to find fault with an enclosure for a creature this large.  This beast seemed really happy.  She kept waving at us with her trunk.

This Impala has great camoflauge.

This guy seems pretty relaxed.

Mandrils are so strange

The Orangutan enclosure was HUGE!  This juvenile orangutan was playing peek-a-boo under a blanket.  Unfortunately, I didn't get a picture of the male who looked like a giant orange muppet.

The Gorilla enclosure was also large.  There were a male, female and some juveniles.  I watched them for a long, long time.  This male gorilla really intrigued me.  Powerful, gentle, and he looks so much like my dad.

Babboons!

Evidently, this chimp likes to pose like a pinup on his blanket.

The Birds

I haven't posted in a while. I've been writing quite a bit, but nothing that I'm ready to go public with yet.  I felt it was time for a blog post though.  After all, I don't want you to all give up and leave me, never check my blog again, so on this cold spring Friday, I'll write about birds.

Actually, the story begins at my tiny apartment in Friedenau that I share with one other person, the fabulous Sedrik.  My room is 10 square meters and shaped like a hallway.  On certain days, it's okay.  On other days, I can's stand the lack of space.  The furniture is too large for the room and there's no room for a decent work area, but in May Sedrik and I and another person named ClausKatrin are moving to a 3 room WG in Wedding where I will have 17 square meters of space all to myself and I am VERY excited.

But back to the present.  Sedrik and I have a small balcony attached to the kitchen.  It's mostly where we hang clothes to dry and when Robert comes over, it's where he smokes his cigarettes.  There is a bunch of trash, disorganized clutter, and plants lying about, or there was, until for a few brief days it was sunny and warm here in Berlin and I decided to make myself a work area. 

Down to the basement went the ugly roll of carpet, back to the store went the plastic bottles (you get Pfand, or money back, for plastic and Glass bottles.)  Away went the dead plants and into a bucket all the once used soil.  I filled the birdfeeder, than swept and even vacuumed the tiled balcony floor, wiped down the white folding table, put some candles on it, and voila!  Beautiful balcony!  I even hung up a bag of fake flowers I had found on the street months ago.  I had a nice, clean, outdoor work area!  And I started writing about my past, my personal history.  Two hours a day on the balcony.  yellowhammers, wheatears and treesparrows came to dine at the birdseed buffet while I scribed, having tiny conversations and arguments over nut and seed.  How lovely! 

See how pretty I made it?

Then the weather got cold again, so I had to take my writing practice inside.  Two days later when I looked out at the balcony, the freshly swept tile floor was littered with birdseed!  It's as if these tiny Avians had had a food fight!  I mean, they really put some effort into flinging the stuff around!  Gone was my image of shy and polite little creatures, delicately nibbling at their brunch.  These guys were party animals, getting wild and crazy at some seedy singles bar, trashing the place before winging it back to the nest.  Their chirpy conversations have become vulgar to my ears.  I'm the late night cleaner, the one who locks up the joint after everyone else has gotten wasted and gone home.  Those damn birds.  Thank god they don't shit where they eat!

Look at this carnage!

Berlin gegen Rassismus

 

I am always delighted by the extreme lengths people will go in Berlin to make sure that there are safe spaces for everybody.  One of my favorite cafes, Tristeza, is not a queer cafe, yet the bathroom is plastered with stickers that say things like, "Smash Homophobia," "Space Invaders Against Transphobia," and "Whenever We Fist, We Win."  There is definitely a giant movement toward integration of all people here.  I wonder how much this has to do with what happened here in the '30s and '40s, Hitlers attack on Jews, Gypsies, homosexuals and people with disabilities.  Probably a lot.  

I find the governments acknowledgement of these atrocities refreshing.  When I think about my own government, it makes me a bit ashamed.  I was at a party the other week and a woman asked me about America.

"My friend's daughter went to high school in America for a year," she said.  "And she said there was nothing about what happened to the Native Americans in the history book.  And when she asked about it, the teacher changed the subject.  Also, is it true that there is a holiday for Christopher Colombus?"  

I had to agree with her that honoring Colombus with his own National holiday was not far from celebrating Hitler's birthday, which NOBODY (except for the people you never want to meet) does.  I did mention that what was once called Colombus day is now known as Indigenous People's day, but sadly only to the liberals and radical left.  I remember being taught that Colombus did a really great thing by 'discovering' the Americas when I was in elementary school.  Why was I taught this instead of being taught about the genocide he and his crew committed?  American textbook companies, you sure like to point the finger of blame at other nations, but have you ever looked in the mirror?  What is this crap we teach our kids.

Unfortunately, this beautiful bubble of tolerance I am living in here in Berlin is not where everyone lives.  While the Jewish people are very protected here (because of that whole holocaust thing) and no one freely admits to anti-Jewish sentiments, there are a few groups that face a lot of intolerance.  See, Berlin is a city full of immigrants, immigrants from other countries in Europe and the world.  And one of the largest immigrant populations here are the Turkish.  I had never been exposed to Turkish culture before moving to Berlin.  You know how in California, there is a lot of Mexican influence (food, art, language, music)?  Well, its the same in Berlin with the Turkish influence.  And you know how there are a lot of stereotypes and deeply-rooted prejudices about Mexican culture in California/America?  Well, it's the same in Berlin/Germany, but with Turkish culture.  Me, I don't get it.  I mean, Turkish people have skin that is the same color as mine, so how can anyone tell who's Turkish and who is white (and what does white mean, anyway.  I have met Germans with a very strong anti-Polish sentiment.  And Polish people are white, but in the balance of power, there is racism against them.  Oy vey, this is getting complicated.)

I was smacked in the face with this anti-Turkish sentiment yesterday when I went to get a bank account at the Sparkasse at Kottbusser Tor yesterday.  Kotbusser Tor is great.  It's a part of Kreuzberg I really enjoy.  There is a vibrant diversity there that makes me feel alive.  Turkish, Arabic, and African influence all mix with German culture and make the air electric!  But the woman who helped me open my bank account didn't think so.  

They had one banker who was fluent in English, so I had to make a special appointment to get my account opened.  This woman and I had the same birthday, December 19.  I thought that was very cool.  She was very friendly with a solid build, thick wrists and a pillowy bust, a fake tan and high hairline.  She asked me some questions and I answered them and somehow we got on the subject of the area the bank was in.  "This can be such a stressful area." 

"Oh, I really like it.  So many different cultures.  I think it's exciting."

And then she launches into, "There are so many people here who have lived her for a long time and don't speak any German.  Thirty years, some of them, and they just have their own communities and never have to learn German."

I know what she's getting at, and I don't want to go there.  "I know some Canadians and British people who have been here 5 years and don't speak ANY German."  I try to steer us away from the inevitable.

"Oh, know.  Americans and English people always learn German," she prattles on, "but these Turkish and Arabic people, they just move here and then they don't even try."

Oh, lady, please shut up and just give me my bank account.  Please?  Do you understand that you sound like a fucking Nazi?  You don't know if I am of Turkish decent.  You only know that I am American, which means I could be anything.  "All the Turkish and Arabic people I know speak excellent German," I say (and it's true.) "Myself, I'm having a really hard time with the language."

After this, we just sort of go on with opening the account, I make a 50€ deposit, and I leave as soon as I can.

But I am still thinking about this woman. What made her think it was okay to say all these things to me?  Does she have any idea she is racist?  Probably not.  It reminds me about how I have heard people in Santa Barbara talk about Mexicans, or people in San Francisco talk about Chinese.  I really wanted to say to this lady, "You go to another country and deal with immigration if you think it's so easy.  Otherwise, shut the fuck up."  

And the fact that it is okay with some people to not speak the native language of where you are as long as you are a native English speaker?  That is just messed up!  What makes English a more valuable language than Turkish or Arabic.  It is nice to have a universal language, and I feel very lucky that it is my mother tongue, but there is so much culture in language, and by saying that English is valuable and Turkish is not, one essentially negates Turkish culture.  And that, my friends, is racist.  

I hope I haven't offended anyone with anything I've said here.  Am I racist?  I wonder.  If any of this does not sit right with you, please comment!  Let's start a conversation.

Innsbruckeplatz

Ikea!

S Friedenau

I have a home in Berlin.  Finally.  And after almost 6 months, I have my own bed, too.  Something I really never thought about (because I've had the same blankets and pillows since college) was having to buy bedding.  Sure, I would buy a new sheet every once in a while when one of mine got too stained with the monthly or too threadbare and full of holes, but I never really thought I'd be without blankets and pillows.
Well, when you think you are just going away for a few months and then you end up moving to another country, you end up with needs such as these. 
I recently had a small sun of cash from an experimental film I did.  (UDK Student's thesis work.)  So I decided to go to Ikea and get myself some bedding.  Dear readers, I pride myself on being anti-consumerist, on finding things on the street and in the trash, on buying used instead of new, on living with less rather than more.  But when I got off the train at Sudkreuz yesterday to go to Ikea, I am ashamed to admit that as I walked the short distance from the station to the store entrance, my pulse quickened.  I developed an extra spring in my step.  An involuntary, dopey grin arrived on my face and wouldn't leave.  I started to sing little snippets of songs.  The excitement I felt upon entering the home-making superstore was damn near erotic.  I had only one thing on my mind: Swedish meatballs.
As I made a beeline for the cafe, I began to think about my mother, the biggest Ikea lover of them all.  She's coming to visit me in Berlin in April, and I am making lists of inexpensive and fun things for us to do.  Through my mind flashed, "Ikea cafe and looking at all the pretty Ikea arrangements."
THIS IS A HORRIBLE IDEA!  ONE DOES NOT FLY ACROSS THE OCEAN TO GO TO IKEA!
Forgive me mother.  It was just my delirious excitement at my mass-produced, Swedish-style meal on a tray.
After eating one of those shrimp-and-egg open-face sandwiches and drinking a cup of coffee, I ventured into the children's section, where I gazed longingly at the stuffed animals, the creative and colorful lighting, the heart-shaped mirrors.  I grabbed a pack of acrylic paint and a stuffed red-heart with arms, then remembered I was on a budget and put them back.
In the closet/storage section, I fell into a deep trance with the collapsible boxes.  When I came to, I had a set of hanging cubbies (SKUBB: Black) and a hanging wardrobe (SKUBB: white) under my arm.  Since my closet situation was basicly a suitcase full of stuff on the floor of a wardrobe, I decided to keep both of these things.  I'd take the doors off the wardrobe when I got home and have an exposed closet, making my tiny (less that 10 sq. m) room seem bigger. 

My bed.  Mine.  I own it!  Exciting stuff, this having a home.

I did not allow myself to go to the kitchen section but instead went straight to the marketplace where, using more self-control then an addict in a pharmacy, I bypassed the many colorful and oddly shaped containers for things like laundry, the shower, etc, and went directly to the bedding.  I bought a comforter, two fitted sheets (one red, one black), a duvet and pillowcase set (Blue polka dots), two pillows (80cm x 80 cm, standard European size) one more soft and expensive for sleeping and one a little lower quality for leaning against, a set of 80cm x 80 cm pillowcases (red) and a set of 40cm x 80cm pillowcases (black) because I have not changed my pillowcase for the pillow I brough from the States (40cm x 80cm) since September.  Possibly disgusting but hey, we don't have dryers on this side of the pond, so if you want to do your laundry, you must wait until at least the next day to wear your freshly cleaned clothes again.
I spent 140€ which was almost within the budget I gave myself for spending and definitely within the "if you want to eat next week you can't spend more than this" number.  And it feels wonderful to have my own bed, to not sleep in my sleeping bag or use someone else's stuff.  I am no longer travelling and wandering.  I live here.  In Berlin.  I have a home.
Yes.

Home! And Pizza Sonntag

Along the Canal

 I haven't had internet at home, and it has really interfered with my ability to blog!  I have been living in a place that was probably quite nice at one point; however, everyone is getting evicted on the 29th so a) there is no community feeling anymore and b) there is not much left in the house because the main tenant has moved out.  No internet, broken washing machine, one day the water in the kitchen stopped working (but was fixed), and well, the whole place, it just doesn't feel like anyone's home.  But it's been a place to lay my head, be alone, and cook for the past two weeks.  Honestly though, I have been spending the majority of my time at Robert's. 
All that is about to change
Because
I HAVE A HOME IN BERLIN!  I HAVE A HOME!  I HAVE A HOME!
This is very exciting.  I have not had a home since August.  I can't wait. The first thing I am going to do is attain my own mattress, sheets, blankets and pillows.  At least a full.  I won't feel like it's home until I have a space where Robert can be comfortable with me.  But let's back track for a moment.  How did it all happen?

I had looked at a ton of places and been rejected: because I was dating a man, because I ate meat, because I didn't speak good German.  I saw one place that I thought might be nice, except it was just a tiny bit too clean and orderly.  What to do?  One day I walked around Park Templehof and cried.

Park Templehof Community Garden

Then there was a posting on Genderliste, an email list I am on that has housing, events, etc.  It was from a person named Sedrik who was looking to start their own WG.  I replied.  We agreed to meet at Silver Future on a Saturday afternoon...
And you know how sometimes you just meet someone and you feel, "Yes"?  Well, that was it.  We spoke in English and got along really well.  Sedrik brought up the fact that they were in a poly relationship and I get to tell them about my landlords, Pepper and Jen, and how I thought that polyamory was as natural as anything else, but it wasn't my personal choice.  We talked about relationships and theory and how it's not wrong to want something normative, just wrong when it's a default setting.  And then they said they had a cat.  Sold!  (Oh, how I miss animals.)
So, the only issue was that the WG we would be starting with one other person (whom I have not met yet, but I look forward to meeting) would not be open until April.  Couchsurfing for a month I could handle if I knew there was a nice carrot at the end of all the unsureness.  And then a very nice thing happened!
Sedrik's current flatmate was moving out of their 2 room flat at the end of the month.  I said, "Hey, how about we see how it goes."  They said, "Sounds great!"  The flat I will be in temporarily is in Friedenau, which is sort of out in the sticks, but there is a bus stop directly outside that takes one to the Ringbahn, which gets me to places I need to be.  The WG we will move into in April or May (there is a little question about the actual move-in) is in Wedding on the U-8 line, which takes one to Kreuzberg and Neukölln, my two favorite areas.  It's cutting it pretty close to the wire, but I will have a home to come back to in Berlin in August/September.  (I'll be working at the Randall Museum in San Francisco this Summer.)  There is some annoying stuff going on at my place on Schillerpromenade right now, but it will all be over soon, and I can't wait to have a home with a cool, mellow roommate and a cat!  Keep reading below for a report on Pizza Sonntag!

Schillerpromende

Robert at Hasenheide Park.  If you look back at older blogposts, you will see photos of this exact spot that are lush and green.  Note the absence of snow.  It has been a mild winter.

Hasenheide Park

On Sunday, February 19th I performed at Pizza Sonntag, hosted by the lovely and adorable David Cassel at The Space Station (Solmstraße 12)
Headlining was a fairly incredible clown duo: Gregor Wollney and Janette Flexonette, and some very eccentric musical acts.  Naomi Fearn played the Kalimba and sang a spooky and sad song about how people wear beige when they are preparing to die and also played a great ukulele duo with the host, David Cassel.  Their was Annika Crump, a musician and storyteller who played the theremin (one of my favorite instruments) and the accordian (another favorite) and me!  And I did something onstage that I haven;t done in a year.  I spoke.  And I sang.  It's been about 10 years since I have participated in a poetry slam, but let me tell you, I've still got it!  And I'm about to take Berlin by storm.  Video of the my intimate Pizza Sonntag performance below. Thanks for reading.

David Cassel in action

Annika Crump with Theremin

An offer, a trade, your name in lights!

Hello lovely readers,

Hard times are upon us, and I am afraid about a few things:

1) That my blog will become nothing more than a list of whining complaints of an American in Berlin
2) That I will run out of money before I get SF this summer
and
3) That you will stop reading.

So, my dear readers, I have an offer for you.  I will be taking assignments!  Is there a question that you have about German culture or life in Berlin that you'd like answered?  Maybe you'd like a personal report of a site here in the capital of Germany that you've read about.  Maybe you are interested in the queer/underground culture here, or you want a profile on the many districts of this city.

For just $10-$20 USD I will write a custom blog entry tailored to your taste!  If interested, you can send your assignment along with your donation by clicking the Paypal DONATE button on this blog!

I look forward to your assignment requests!

A wobbling reality

Berlin seems to be a topsy-turvy teeter-totter of plentitude and sparsity.  I'm sitting in a Turkisch Backeri with W-LAN around the corner from my temporary home on Schillerpromenade.  My right shoulder is killing me and I don't know why.  Probably a combination of bad posture and stress.  I have cramps and a job interview.  I'm a good actor.  I'll act like I feel fabulous!
I interviewed for two different rooms yesterday.  One in a Housing Project with 17 people.  It was quiet and clean with not too many rules.  I would definitely live there.  Also, it was in Kreuzberg, a neighborhood I adore.  The other was with one other person in Wedding, a neighborhood I am not crazy about.  The woman was sweet, a social worker working in the anti-psychiatry sector.  Here apartment was clean and with character, a romantic red rose motif.  She suffered from agoraphobia and smoked in the kitchen.  I have come to accept that smoking inside is just something I will have to deal with.  I asked her if there was wireless internet.  She said yes but that she didn't like to share her password.  I tried to explain  to her that just because I used her internet signal did not mean I had access to her files.  She really liked me and actually, we got along well, but I will not move in there unless she trusts me enough to give me her password.
Honestly, the place I end up next doesn't really matter in the long-long-term.  I have to be able to live there until June, sublet for 2.5 months, and come back to it.  And then, if I want to, I can look for my dream home. 
The only sure thing in my life right now is that I have improv rehearsal on Thursday nights and an improv show on Friday nights until the beginning of April.  Thank god for this.  Also, after a year-long hiatus from using language onstage and a 10 year hiatus from slam poetry, I have decided it is time to start rocking the Berlin poetry slam scene.  Poetry slam is a relatively new genre in Germany, and there are a few English Language slams.  I've been writing a lot of slam style poems lately, and I have quite a few oldies up my sleeve as well.  I have decided that this will be my performance at Pizza Sonntag on Sunday.  Dammit, there are enough challenges going on in my life right now.  I should allow myself to do what I do well and enjoy a little success. 
Get ready, Berlin, because this lady slam poet is about to take you over!

And just to be clear, even though everything is so, so hard right now, I am still glad I quit the shitty Au Pair job.  And I am so, so thankful for Robert.

The harsh reality of internet addiction

Here I am, in my new (if temporary) small kitchen with humming refrigerator.  It is nice to have my own life again, to eat oatmeal and drink coffee in a room designed to to especially that.  To not feel like I might be in way, asked to move, alter my activity, babysit at a moments notice.  I woke up alone in my new room and did yoga!  It was the first time in a long time.  This body is creaky!  But I will come back to myself, maybe quicker then anticipated.  Still, I'm not sure what I will perform at Pizza Sonntag on Sunday.  I have 6 days to make something work.  Maybe I will bring back the slam poet or just tell a story.  It's an English speaking crowd.  Why not?

The two things that are not so great about my temporary residence (I've got to find a place by February 29th) are that the washing machine is busted and that there is no internet.  While there is one network that is not password protected that I keep trying to jump on, there is still no internet.  All my bars light up, but no internet.  Now, this really shouldn't be such a big deal.  There are internet cafes, I have a caring partner who is a 15 minute walk away and lets me use his internet.  Really, I should be more upset about the washing machine.

The thing is, I'm not!

I am hooked on facebook
On chat
On email and google
Blogs and pictures of cats being cute
Youtube videos of babies having temper tantrums
Dairy cows with abscesses
And online public transit planners
I need the internet to feel close to you because
I'm all out of English Language books to read
I need the internet because it's winter in Berlin and I want to look at photos of the sun
Burning magma explosions and fire
What about my google translate?
Oy vey?

Last night at around 8 I went out, hunted the street for a nearby bar or cafe with wireless, couldn't find one, didn't feel like going all the way to Silver Future, which is about a 30 minute walk.  So into every open kneipe I went, "Hast du internet?" or, when I remember the correct way to say it, "Habt ihr internet?"  No luck anywhere.  Finally I came home, drank a bottle of Secco with my new roommate, Franchesco who is Italian and very sweet.  He's only lived here for one week.  All of us are in such a temporary state.  There's an owner-move-in eviction happening on March 1st, so everyone is leaving.  The other roommates are a guy from York, England named Tom who is not too social and a Chinese girl who no one ever sees.
This is the point where it gets hard.  This is the point were I get scared...again.  I've been in Berlin 5 months, have nowhere to call home here, no where to call home in SF, am not sure how I am going to work at the Randall Museum this summer without a place there to call home, still have to buy a bus ticket to London to catch my flight from London Heathrow to Newark New Jersey and then buy a plane ticket from New York to San Francisco and I start working 4 or 5 days after I get to SF.  Guys, I'm terrified. But I just take a deep breath, remind myself that now that I have some level of comfort in my home environment, I can start focusing on German again and that no matter what happens to me, I have Improv on Thursday and Friday nights.

Also, I have an interview in a WG tomorrow for a place that would be permanent.  It's not in a very interesting neighborhood, but at this point, I don't care.  It's near the U6 and the U9, which can take me to somewhere else and that's good enough for me.  Also, I have a job interview on Wednesday at the Center to be a teaching artist and that is VERY exciting.  Now to put my shoes on and go find a cafe with internet.

-H.

Taking risks, following my path

My living situation got worse and worse.  Thursday morning, I was told (not asked) via a note  that I needed to watch the kids that evening and I had to call them and and tell them I couldn't because I had an improv class with David Cassel
I am upset the whole day.  I come over to Robert's and tell him that I think I may split in two.  He comforts me.  I go to class and try to forget about my situation.
At this class, I remember that I am good at things, like to play, deserve respect, and most importantly, why I came to Berlin in the first place.  I'm on a path, and I should not stray from the path.  Every time I do, things go wrong.  The path.  The path is important.  Even if it is difficult,  even when there are tests, the path is important.

I left them a note asking them to please give me 24 hours notice if they wanted me in the evening because it would help me to make sure I was available.  Also, I asked them for help moving a piece of furniture out of my room because Robert has a bad flu and can't get out of bed.  I said that I was feeling out of sorts and doing my best to be accomodating and stay out of the way, that I was trying to meet their expectation but was not always sure what it was.  Ever since I went to Prague, Ebrahim and Sybille had been increasingly rude to me.  Who knows why?  I did everything they asked me, too and got their 2 year old to go to sleep!  (Do you know how hard it is to get a two year old to go to sleep? It can be really fucking difficult.)  Anyway, yesterday morning, I wake up before the alarm.  I go to the cold bathroom, pee, and brush my teeth.  I put on my clothes and go make some Turkish Coffee in the kitchen.  Ebrahim comes downstairs to his office.  "Morgen,"  I say.  "Wie geht's?"
"Gut, danke."  He says bruskly and leaves without asking me how I am.  The feeling is icy like the weather.
I schlepp myself upstairs.  Juliet lets me in. Sybille and Ebrahim are sitting there in the kitchen glaring at me.  I smile.  "Morgen," I say and make myself coffee.  I try to be cheery, wait for one of them to say something.  I see my note is still on the refrigerator but has been moved.  Sybille walks past me without eye contact or a word.  I say, "Oh, Robert is much better.  He can help me."
"Oh, good," the icy mommy mutters and leaves the room.
I sit at the kitchen table with Younis while Mom and dad get ready for work.  They come in the kitchen.  Ebrahim says, "Bye," pauses for half a second, "Younis."  Because he definitely doesn't want to talk to me.  So rude.
Now I'm just pissed.  Younis and I have a nice time in the morning.  I know it will be my last day.  Robert has told me that I can leave my things at his place while I couch surf and look for a home.  We also agree that I can stay until Wednesday, when I have a job interview at The Center
I am so excited!  My first interview for an official freelance artist position!
I am scared about the choice I have made, but I must make room for opportunity.  I must open myself up to the possibility of success, which means opening myself to the possibility of failure as well.  My living situation has begun to cause me spiritual damage.  I do not feel safe there.  I must leave.
I go to Improv that night and perform.  I am FUNNY!  After, I meet an older ex-pat from Florida.  He is part of English Theatre Berlin and encourages me to audition in April.  Okay!  He also tells me he has a couch I can crash on for a night or two.  We become Facebook friends.
Today someone from the improv group tells me they have a space I can rent from now until April 28th.  I'm also going to look at something for long-term on Tuesday.  I pack and move all of my things out today.  Lie to Ebrahim and Sybille by saying, "Sorry, I found a place."  Ebrahim has artificial understanding and Sybille is an all out bitch.  I'll go clean my room, get my remaining kitchen items and take out the trash tomorrow, maybe leave them a note detailing the ways the situation did not work for me, or maybe just a present or letter for Juliet.  I feel a little bad about the way I left, but really, I have to take care of myself because the truth of the matter is that no one else is going to.  And though my decision scares me, I know I did the right thing!

So F*%king Cold!- Some Pictures

Neukölln

 

It's -8 Cº here tonight.  Last night Robert came to meet me and my tandem speaking partner Alex at a cafe and there was ice in his hair by the time he arrived.  It is DAMN COLD!  Shit, I'm from California, and even the coldest day at the beach does not compare to the absolute, inescapable pain of this cold.  I go outside in layer upon layer, only my cheeks showing, and feel that small teeth are sinking into me.  Cold.  And this weekend I'm going somewhere even colder: Prague! 
I haven't been to Praha in four years, and Robert's never been.  We had already planned our trip, and then I got a call from Jana today asking me if I'd like to perform at this:
http://www.mlejn.cz/2-program.html
It's a Women's New Circus Festival.  Of course I said yes!
Anyway, I'm not sure if I will go out into the cold, cold night again this evening or not, but below are some pictures of exactly how cold it is.  FREEZING!

Crow on ice.  This is in the middle of the canal. Usually the spot where this bird is standing is a slow moving current of water.  But it is Febuary in Berlin, and the Canal is frozen.

Frozen canal.  Brrr!

WTF!

 

The past 24 hours have been challenging for me.  They leave me feeling like the above photo says, "What the Fuck?" I had two tandem speaking appointments yesterday, both fun,  I'll write about tandem speaking soon in it's own entry.  It's really a great thing.  But now, my frustrations.  I've been trying to stay rather positive and/or neutral on my blog, but I think that I am going to actually be rather angry with this one, and that is just the way it must be.  

Between appointments yesterday, I went to the Turkish Market.  I bought some vegetables, lamented over  how I shouldn't buy fish or meat because I don't feel my space for cooking is adequate, and then I sw the Suppengrüne for only 1€.  Suppengrüne is carrots, celery root, parsely, and maybe a leek.  I almost bought one, and then I realized that making soup in my space, while it might be possible, would definitely be problematic.  See, my two burner portable electric stove is in the living room, a space I was told the family "never used" when I agreed to the childcare in exchange for rent situation I am in now.  Of course, what they actually meant by "never used it" is "always sent the kids down there to be loud and also watched movies there on weekends without inviting you or asking if you would like to join."  

I feel that, in a way, this family is very generous.  I have privacy, my own room, my own bathroom, etc.  I just don't feel like I am a part of their community.  And I really want to be part of a community.  Or at least feel comfortable in my space. I want a home and I don't have one.  When I feel said, I want to be able to make soup in a relatively quiet and respectful environment and through the process, feel better.  I really like this family and the values they are raising their kids with, but I don't like not being considered.  The dad is warm and friendly.  I feel comfortable talking to him.  Mom seems mostly cold and stressed out.  Sometimes she is nice to me, and she tells me to ask if I need anything, but whenever I try to talk to her, she doesn't have time.  I also feel like there is no clarity about what is expected of me and what the boundaries of our arrangement are.  I am told that I don't have to take Younis to Kita in the morning next week.  I say, "Oh, cool.  Maybe I'll go to Prague."  And the mother says, "It would be great if you could make another film with Juliet."  Ok, fine, but just tell me when!  Don't be so ambiguous!  So today, after getting rejected from a WG because my partner's assumed gender is not the one they like to have hanging around their flat, I broke down and cried to Robert about how frustrated I was to not have a home.  I'll come to the States for two months this summer to work, but I don't have a home in the Bay Area either.  It's really hard to be grounded enough to start any sort of creative project when I don't have a space where I can be myself.  Also, it's hard to know if I am taking enough space for myself in my various relationships when I don't have any space that I feel is mine.  And so instead of thinking, "I'm tired.  I'll go home and rest and not have so much input,"  I just do what other people suggest because I don't so much have any safe space to go.  It's really messed up.  

Today I went home for little bit and after making myself a fried egg and cheese sandwich, I went upstairs to attempt to make an appointment with Juliet for some hang out and animation time.  Juliet will be at her dad's Monday through Wednesday.  "Okay, well, if you're back on Wednesday, we can work then.  Otherwise, I probably won't be here." 

I was going to ask Mom if she would consider renting the downstairs apartment that has a kitchen in it.  I could pay some and still keep the babysitting arrangement, but it was clear that she was tired and had no interest in talking to me.

Truly, what an asshole am I for complaining?  I mean, I don't pay rent!  And no one is telling me that I'm doing anything wrong, but well, I need a kitchen, I need a purpose, and I need a space where I feel comfortable creating.  I'm supposed to be working as an artist, yet all of my energy is going toward learning German and trying to find a home.  

After spending a few hours inside, I packed up my computer to go to the Sofabar, a cozy little kniepe that unfortunately has a fußball game on right now, but whatever.

I step into the courtyard that leads form hinterhaus tor vorhaus and the ground is covered with a thin, glittering blanket of white.  Schnee!  I am so happy to have snow.  Finally. 

Mexican food in Berlin? No thank you!

Does this look like a burrito to you?  No?  I didn't think so.

 

 

 

 

 

I knew that Mexican food in Berlin would be weird.  Still, I had to try it.
I've been really careful with money since I've been abroad, scraping by on a strand of a shoestring, finding most of my clothing on the street, reading material at the flea markets and walking the extra block or two to the cheaper (if less convenient) grocery stores. 
I was meeting Robert at an art opening (which was quite disappointing) at 7:30, so I decided to get my stroll on down Oranienstraße around 6.  Oranienstraße is a hip and trendy street in Kreuzberg with lots of cafes, boutiques, and restaurants.  There are some döner and falafel shops, some Vietnamese places, and two Mexican restaurants.  Felt like walking, so I chose the one farther from my apartment.
Santa Maria Mexican Diner in Berlin is about as far from a San Francisco Taqueria as I could ever hope to get.  You know that 'no-ambience lighting and Mariachi music" that make a Mission district taqueria a true and honest experience?  In Berlin, one has to go to a late-night Kebap shop to bask in this type of cheap eats glow.  I know I am in for an interesting experience when I walk in and hear the a Clash album playing.  I don't remember the name of the album.  It's the one where they cover Bob Dylan's hit, "Maggie's Farm."  Good music, for sure, but not taqueria music.  Also, the lighting is, well, nice, soft.  And there's table service.  And I don't see ANY Mexican people.  Weird.
But I remind myself that I am not in California anymore.  Mexico is far away.  Of course, this will be a different sort of dining experience.  I force the doors of my mind to remain open as I order.  Though tempted by the vegan option with pumpkin and spices,  I stay true to my original goal of having a  comparative experience and order the Tippa de Pollo.  The Tippa de Polla is 6,50€ and is advertised as a chicken burrito with beans, cheese and salsa.  Look at the above photo.  Just look at it.  Does that look like a chicken burrito to you?  Does it?
If you've looked at the photo and you are still unsure whether to answer yes or no, let me help you out a little bit.  First of all, this "burrito" is wrapped in some sort of lavash or flatbread.  It's the right shape, but it's really not a tortilla and should never be used as one.  The beans?  Well, the were refried pintos, but not the ultra delicious type found in the Bay area.  No, these refried beans tasted like the beans from one of those little bean and cheese freezer burritos you stick in the microwave when you are all out of more edible food.  The chicken?  Well, there was a lot of it, and it was pretty tasty I guess, but the spices were all wrong.
Look at the picture above one more time.  See that brown-purpley mess next to the "burrito?"  What the hell is that?  Is it supposed to be Mexican food, too?  It's a sort of pickled onion and pepper pile.  I don't get it.
Over all, the above pictured was an edible, but not wonderful meal.  It was the most expensive meal I've had in a while, maybe since I was in London four months ago.  I'm not sorry I had the experience.  I was curious so I tried it.  But you know what?  I'm sticking with 1,50€ döner and 2€ pizza, thank you very much.
The food in Berlin, German and Turkish alike, is FANTASTIC, but I'll save my taco-time for this June and July when I'm working in San Francisco.

The King of Pop kills the Devil, Oranienstraße, Kreuzberg

Outdoor Turkish Market and FOOD, FOOD, FOOD! (Celia, this one is for you!)

Typical German Breakfast-Bread, Cheese, Meat, Butter, Boiled Eggs.  (Not Pictured here are the wide variety of Frischkässe spreads also often present at such events as the lazy, Sunday morning Früstuck)

This post is for my friend Celia, who lives in Oakland, California.  Why for Celia, you might wonder?  Well, this post is about food, and food is Celia's passion in life.  So there you have it.

Though many ingredients found in California can also be found in Berlin, there are a few things that make the cuisine very different.  For one, mexican food, though available, is not so common.  You can't find black beans or refried beans at the common Supermarkts.  They may be available somewhere, but I haven't seen any yet.  Instead of the late night taqueria, here we have döner kebap, a Turkish meat sandwich made with meat carved off of a spit and server on bread with cabbage, sometimes tomato, and sauce.  Döner  is widely available and if you know where to go you can get some real quality food for 1,50€.  Some döner shops also have very reasonably priced falafel.  In general, Neukölln is a little cheaper than Kreuzerg, but there are exceptions to this rule.  Pizza is also pretty inexpensive if you know where to go.  There is a place in Neukölln on Wildenbruchstraße that has a huge variety of personal-sized pizzas for 2€ each.  My favorite is the shrimp, squid and cheese with tomato sauce and chili oil.  

But let's talk more about Früstuck (breakfast), shall we?  This is by far my favorite meal of the day, when I have time, that is.  While I am a fan of hot ceral, oatmeal only makes it's appearance at my breakfast table occasionally.  Generally, whether I'm eating alone or with friends, breakfast includes bread (either sliced or little rolls called Schrippe) cheese, honey, sometimes cold meat, and any variety of spreadable Frischkäse.  My favorite is currently horse radish, though I also like the Herb and Garlic very much.  Frischkäse can be very expensive, but it's also possible to find it in the Lidl or PennyMarkt for under ,70€.  Boiling eggs seems to be the most common way to prepare them in my sphere of

influence, although they are of course cooked every which way here just like in the rest of the world.

Robert and I went to the Turkish Market on Maybachufer along the canal on Friday.  A gorgeous mishmash of colors, the outdoor Turkish Market takes place on Tuesdays and Fridays until 6.  The closer to the end you go, the better the bargains.  I got a bunch of bananas for ,50€ and Robert got three avocados for 1€!  I also found some very inexpensive and high quality cotton tights.  Today I'm wearing them under my pants because it is SNOWING outside!  (I look out the window and see the little flakes falling.  Opening the window, I stick my hand out, catch a flake on my fingertip, taste it.  I hear a tinkling sound as the flakes touch the ground.  So beautiful.)

We also bought some turkey eggs, which are much bigger than chicken eggs.  They tasted pretty much the same as chicken eggs, though.

Below are some photos from the Turkish market.  I tried to focus on colors and textures.  I hope you like them.

As well as food, you can also by clothing, incense and knick-knacks at the Turkish Market

and they have some really good deals on fabric.

and yarn

I was so surprised to see dragon fruit!  It's an  Asian fruit, very beutiful.  The inside is white with black speckles.

My New Digs- Au Pair Land

Madame Claude's

 Yesterday I moved from my lovely home of 2 months in Lichtnberg to Wienerstraße, into a situation that I was quite nervous about but is proving to be quite nice.  In exchange for a private, furnished room, private bath and toilet and a shared but rarely used living room, I will give 10-15 hours of childcare a week.  10 of these hours will be Monday through Friday, from 7 am to 9 am, when I will prepare 2 year old Younis for Kita. And I will also work from 4 to 7 on Monday evenings.  Then there will be another evening thrown in there somewhere.  All in all, a sweet deal that hopefully won't keep me from doing other small jobs and working as an artist so I can earn some money.
The family is lovely, Arabic and German.  The 8 year old, Juliet, speaks excellent English.  I will have to try to get her to help me with my German.  I ate dinner with them tonight, pasta with a creamy salmon sauce and vegetables.  I really like the parenting style. Everyone is quite friendly and I feel more comfortable by the second.
While part of me is dreading the early mornings, another part of me looks forward to getting back to my old schedule where I actually get to enjoy daylight!
Last night was Sam's last night in town, and he wanted to go to a kneipe just down the straße from my new digs called Madame Claude's.  The place was crowded but cool, with low light and furniture glued upside-down to the ceiling.  Everyone in this place seemed to be American, even the Russian music promoter we met!  Robert had gone somewhere with his sister Ricarda after hanging out at my place a bit, but he came and met us around 10:30.  Sam snapped photos, growing already nostalgic, and Robert and I did a little John Waters-style posing.  That is, I was hoping for a John Waters-esque, "Ick!" factor, but actually, we're just cute, and that makes me throw up in my mouth a little bit.  I thought about posting the picture, but well, we're just to damn cute and it's disgusting.
So I live in trendy Kreuzberg, and I am concerned because everyone speaks English to me because they want me to feel comfortable.  It is hard to get the chutzpah to practice.  But it is necessary.  I have freelance work offers if can get a bit fluent.  I am considering taking another German course. I heard that the Volkshochschule in Kreuzberg is better than the one in Neukölln.  We will see!  Meanwhile, I went to a gym for an introductory session today and spoke no English.  My German is bad.  Bad!  But if I need to, I can get by.  While not an end result, this is still progress.  The gym, McFit, costs only 17.99€ a month, but you have to sign up for a year contract.  I can't afford that and language school, so I will have to utilize the flat screen TV and DVD collection in the living room during the day when no one is home to instigate my own workout program, because the guy at the gym let me be on the elliptical machine for 45 minutes even after I told him I couldn't buy a membership, and damn, did I feel lifted when I was done!  I asked him, "Deutschkurs oder Fitnesstudio."
He said, "Deutschkurs."
I wrote a very short email, all in German, this evening.  It took me FOREVER and I don't know if it made any sense.  The words were all correct (I think) but the grammar?  No idea.
It's almost 11 now and I have to be upstairs drinking coffee and waiting for Younis to wake up at 7 am, so I'm going to go to bed.  This is the earliest I've turned in in months, and I am looking forward to it!

Nazi Stew

I've lived in Lichtenberg for the past 2 months.  In this time, I have spent a lot of time at the house, I have gone to Nadia und Kosta, a small cafe with free WLAN next to Nöldnerplatz S-Bahn and the Netto Discount Supermarkt.  Except for a few random walks outside to stretch my legs and get some fresh air, that is the extent of my time in my neighborhood.  Otherwise I'm in Neukölln, Kreuzberg, or ocassionally Prenzlauerberg.  So I'm not really aware of the flavor of my neighborhood.
Robert comes over the other night.  We're hungry.  I have purchased half a chicken at the Lidl, but it will take about an hour to cook.  We are too hungry for this. 
"There's a grill party at the place down the street.  Want to go?"  Robert asks.
"Sure!  Grill Party!  Toll!"  I change out of my fuzzy, ladybug slippers into my trusty Doc Martens, thinking wistfully that I miss my exciting and eccentric clothes and shoes, but I only came here with two backpacks full of things, and that I'll bring more stuff back with me in August after my visit to the States.

We walk the block and to Zum alten Rauthaus, the Kneipe that often has the fire pits blazing outside it.  There are a few friendly, drunk guys who offer us Goulash from a big iron cauldron hanging over a flame and invite us to come to the party inside.  Great!  We sit outside and eat the stew with some dark bread and then walk into Rauthaus.  I look around and realize that this is not my crowd.  Everyone is white and there are several guys who look like bikers or bears from San Francisco, except none of them are holding hands.  A puffy looking blonde woman in an ugly sweater asks us who invited us, it's a private party.  Robert answers in German that some guys outside told us to come in for a drink.  She asks him to point them out but he can't find them.  We are told to leave, so we go to the place on the corner by my place called Zum Guten Happen.  I had been curious about this place.  It looked rough, but they advertised a cheap happy hour.  Before I left the neighborhood, I wanted to check it out. 
I open the door and am met with mean eyes on the face of a man who looks like 50 years of cigarette smoke and 3 gallons of whiskey.  It is a deciding moment.  I am on the threshold, Robert behind me.  We could turn and leave, but then we are inside. 
While I don't usually like to let a man do the talking for me, I sense this is not the place to practice my rudimentary German.  I let Robert do the ordering.  I get a rum and coke and he gets a glass of red wine from the bartender, who looks like a combination of a bullfrog and a cigarette, She has a straight, blond hair, cut in the mullet fashion and with a bouffant on top.  And her hairdo is not a joke. 
We sit there for one drink that is only mildly comfortable, reminiscing over the finer points of the weekend visits with his parents.  We finish our drinks, pay and practically run out of the place.
We come back home and Jana is still awake.  She asks us where we went and when we tell her, she says, "Oh yes, those are Nazi places." 
Yikes.  But I sort of figured that out.

Let's talk about this word, Nazi.  It means ultra-right wing.  It means anti-immigrant.  The focus has been taken off of Jews and is now directed toward immigrants, mostly Turkish, Asian, and Arabic people because they are easy immigrant populations to target.  Still, they don't like Jews and if they had their way, that guy with the Charlie Chaplin moustache would have won the last world war.
I've been living in Lichtenberg, and I guess there are many right-wingers here as well as a large Asian population.  Thomas, a man I know who lives a few blocks past Nöldnerplatz says that three of the Stoplersteine outside of his apartment where blacked out.  He waited a week to see if anyone would do anything about it.  Someone did, but he later found out it was someone from the city street cleaning crew, not one of his neighbors. 
Berlin is wonderful.  Beautiful.  Lots of wonderful people.  I love it.  But there are still many Nazis in Germany and the rest of the world.

But the stew was good.  And it was free.

Fuck nazis.

Weinachten mit der Addamsfamily, Weinachtmarkt und mein Geburstag!

Sam and I at the Volksbühne

On Saturday evening I went to meet Sam, a guy I had met a few times in San Francisco through our mutual friend, Kai.  We were meeting at the Volksbühne, a popular theater in Mitte to see a free play, "Weinachten mit der Addamsfamily."  Sam is only in Berlin for two weeks.  He speaks four languages, but German is not one of them.  Still, he is trying and feeling that very familiar American guilt of having life be easier because he speaks English.  

"You're here for two weeks.  Relax.  It's a tough language."  I tell him.  

The play will be in the second floor lobby of this very posh theater, and the whole of it is done up in goth glory.  Black lace and chiffon drape the sparkling chandeliers hanging from the high ceiling, and there is a withered Christmas tree with doll parts and plastic skulls dangling from it's branches.

The play starts, and I am impressed by the physicality, the commitment of the actors.  Of course, there is a lack of character depth, but the play is a comic book, really.  Of course it is all in Deutsch, and again I am impressed by how much I understand.

The play lasts about an hour, filled with the antics of Wednesday and Pugsley as they try to kill Morticia's new baby.  

 

After the play, it's still early, about 7 o'clock, and Sam is up for a stroll about town.  We go to the Weinachtsmarkt at Jannowitzebrücke.  This particular Weinachsmarky is more like a carnival with rides and games where you can win things.  It's the type of place I love and hate at the same time, huge beer drinking crowds, lots of noise and flashing lights.  It's amazing and repulsive.

Weinachtmarkt, Jannowitzbrücke

Weinachtsmarkt, Jannowitzbrücke

Weinachtsmarkt, Jannowitzebrücke. No that is not a beer in my hand, it is a Club Mate, which is a carbonated mate drink, much better (and cheaper) than Red Bull.

Weinachtsmarkt, Jannowitzbrücke.  These were at a currywurst stand.  Granted, they are practical, but well, they just look a little like a used condom to me.  Yech!

Weinachtmarkt, Jannowitzbrücke

Sam and I wanted to go on the Ferris Wheel, but it cost 5€.  We decided to take our 5€ and spend it at Silver Future instead.

Silver Future

 Over drinks, we talked about similarities and differences between the Bay Area and Berlin.  The main thing that I have noticed is that in Berlin, I don't have to explain that though I identify as queer, I am not gay.  I don't have to have the "What is queer?" discussion with folks. Culturally, they just kind of get it.  I like this!

Yesterday was my birthday and it was a good one!  In the morning I schlepped myself out of bed and went to the Universitat der Künste to see about getting work as a life model.  They said to check back next Semester.  So I will.  I am just absolutely going to keep showing up until they give me a job.
After, I went to Kottbussr Tor, a stop in Kreuzburg, because Robert had told me about a shop tht sold yarn on Oranienstraße.  It was time to buy myself a little present.  I look at buying yarn as an investment.  If I make hats, I can sell them.  But in order to sell them, I've got to have product, a spread, so to speak.
I found the shop and they had some really nice 80% wool blends on sale.  I bought a few skeins and started crocheting immediately!  I went to the Lidle and bought some wine and prosecco for the party later, then cam e home and worked on my hat while watching Harold and Maude dubbed in German.  I know the entire movie in English, so if I watch it 20 or so times in Deutsch, I think I will have a much better grasp of this language!
In the evening, people came over.  We sat around the table, talked in English and German, ate Mac and cheese and chocolate cake and drank a lot of wine.  Everyone left around midnight, which was PERFECT!

I have been in Berlin a little over 3 months, and though life is rough here, I feel a real sense of community, like the city and the people I know care for me.  They see I am genuine, that I have a good heart, a creative mind, and that I can deliver.  I make an effort here and then things happen.  Slowly, but they do.

It's the first night of Channukah this evening, but I've no plans to celebrate.  Daniel invited me to a Channukah party on Saturday night but I've been invited to leave Berlin!  I'll be traveling by train with Robert and his sister to Rostock, which is in the northeast of Deutschland to spend Weinachten with his mother and father, who speak not one word of English.  Oh my!  A bit excited, a bit terrified.  This is going to be interesting!