I have been getting more confident on my small green bike lately. And I have given her a name. Deena. Deena and I have gotten tired of only riding around the bike training course in Görlitzer park. I have started taking her places! Today, I rode across the canal to the Turkischmarkt.
I wrote about the Turkischmarkt two years ago, when I was first discovering Berlin. I'll revisit that now.
White canopies dot the canal at Maybachufer. On a rainy day, there is space enough to move about, from seller to seller, but when the weather is nice the cobblestone pathway resembles the N-Judah at rush hour, people shouldering past each other, always with too much stuff, sometimes someone in a lost state of oblivion, weaving too and fro, indecisive, slow. You try not to get to irritated by this, because sometimes the person in the state of oblivion is you.
Today is rainy, but you would never know that business was slow from the call of the produce sellers, brown men who speak three languages and know how to be pushy in German. I stop at the cantaloupe and pineapple. "Zwei stuck, ein Euro! Zwei stuck Ananas! Zwei stuck Melon, ein Euro! Ein Euro! Hallo! Hallo!" The man bellows relentlessly, a clarion voice over the rest. I try to ignore him while choosing my fruit. When I hand him a Euro, the lyrics of his song momentarily change to , "Bitte schon! Bitte schon!" But the melody remains the same, seamlessly picking up it's original refrain.
Then there is the chicken man, whom I positively hate giving my business, but I do because he has a sweet deal on whole birds, 1 small bird for 2,50€ or 3 for 6,95€. He bags my purchase and takes my money, never making I contact with my. I hold out my hand to collect my change. He ignores my hand, instead putting my purchase and my change on the counter, still never looking at me. No eye contact through out the entire transaction.
I pack my backpack full of carrots, beetroot, apples, tomatoes and carry my cloth bag full of ripe figs back to my bike. Putting the bag on the back, I straddle the seat, putting one foot on the peddle and pushing off with the other. I bike all the way home. The center of balance seems different now that I am carrying things. I lose control of the steering a few times, but I regain it, mostly without stopping. On Sunday, Robert and I might go biking in Grunewald, something I have wanted to do for two years, if the weather is nice.
20 September 2013
09 September 2013
Fahrrad fahren (Bike riding)
It has been many months since I posted here in this blog. The reasons for this are many. In March, shortly after I posted my disappointment about the 10 minute play festival, I had some major health problems. I went into the hospital for a hernia surgery and a two day stay only to find out that I had an advanced case of pelvic inflammatory disease (which they discovered when they started surgery and couldn't find a hernia) and was in the hospital for six days, then had to go back to the hospital two weeks later for a bigger surgery where they removed my fallopian tubes, which were filled with pus, and I had another six day hospital stay. There are several funny and horrible stories inside this experience, but I will not write them now. It was a long recovery and I have been restored to my full health and strength, minus my fallopian tubes. For me, the outcome of this is PERMANENT BIRTH CONTROL!!! I am extremely happy to not have to worry about my eggs anymore. The irony is that the whole problem was caused by my IUD, which I had so I would not get pregnant. Also, it really sucked that a month after I got married, my vagina fell off. But she's back now, and she is once again a happy and healthy girl.
Robert was incredibly supprtoive to me throughout this time. He made healing much easier. I am lucky to have him.
In July I was in Liz Erber's play, "Tip of the Iceberg," as part of English Theater Berlin's Lab series. We sold out and got a sparkling review on ZDF (which is like the German PBS) and are discussing doing the show again. I had an amazing time working with Liz Erber and Rob Rodgers, two incredibly talented artists.
I am hosting a monthly cabaret which is beginning this month! I think I am almost done booking it and then I have to try to get people to show up so I can pay the wonderful artists! If you are in Berlin and have an act, please contact me. I am especially looking for things that push up against the boundaries of gender, sexuality, race and class while having entertainment value!
Possibly the largest thing going on in my life right now is something that most other adults can do and take for granted. I am learning to ride a bicycle. I started this process four years ago in San Francisco, but never practiced much. It seemed too daunting and a bit pointless. Only the daring use their bikes in that city as a reliable mode of transportation. In Berlin, everyone rides a bike. The city is very bike friendly. It's flat, for the most part, and drivers are used to sharing the road with cyclists. Last week, Robert helped me choose a small, green women's cruiser and lowered the seat so that me feet could rest flat on the ground. My new apartment in Kreuzberg (a short walk to Robert's flat in Neukölln) is across the street from the bike learning area, a small little "traffic park" for children to go ride their bikes in. Well, children and me. It's free to use and the people there loan me a helmet. On Wednesday afternoon, there is a class for adult women who are learning to ride bikes. This class is geared toward the Turkish community, where the family structure is more patriarchal, but it is for me also. I am a grown woman who never learned to ride a bike. I am really looking forward to this class. I go everyday to practice on my small, green bicycle. It is frustrating, but I notice a slow progress. Stopping smoothly continues to be an issue, but I can now get started well, which I could not two days ago. Today it had rained, so I was alone there, which was nice. On Friday, a 9 year old boy wanted to help me and gave me all kinds of encouraging words until his mother (thankfully) asked him to leave me alone and go play. It's hard to practice when someone is trying to engage you in conversation. This kid had the right idea though. Let's ride bikes. Let's have fun. Who cares if you are good at it.
I will try to adopt this attitude.
I will also try to write in this blog once a week. Thanks for reading!
Robert was incredibly supprtoive to me throughout this time. He made healing much easier. I am lucky to have him.
In July I was in Liz Erber's play, "Tip of the Iceberg," as part of English Theater Berlin's Lab series. We sold out and got a sparkling review on ZDF (which is like the German PBS) and are discussing doing the show again. I had an amazing time working with Liz Erber and Rob Rodgers, two incredibly talented artists.
Possibly the largest thing going on in my life right now is something that most other adults can do and take for granted. I am learning to ride a bicycle. I started this process four years ago in San Francisco, but never practiced much. It seemed too daunting and a bit pointless. Only the daring use their bikes in that city as a reliable mode of transportation. In Berlin, everyone rides a bike. The city is very bike friendly. It's flat, for the most part, and drivers are used to sharing the road with cyclists. Last week, Robert helped me choose a small, green women's cruiser and lowered the seat so that me feet could rest flat on the ground. My new apartment in Kreuzberg (a short walk to Robert's flat in Neukölln) is across the street from the bike learning area, a small little "traffic park" for children to go ride their bikes in. Well, children and me. It's free to use and the people there loan me a helmet. On Wednesday afternoon, there is a class for adult women who are learning to ride bikes. This class is geared toward the Turkish community, where the family structure is more patriarchal, but it is for me also. I am a grown woman who never learned to ride a bike. I am really looking forward to this class. I go everyday to practice on my small, green bicycle. It is frustrating, but I notice a slow progress. Stopping smoothly continues to be an issue, but I can now get started well, which I could not two days ago. Today it had rained, so I was alone there, which was nice. On Friday, a 9 year old boy wanted to help me and gave me all kinds of encouraging words until his mother (thankfully) asked him to leave me alone and go play. It's hard to practice when someone is trying to engage you in conversation. This kid had the right idea though. Let's ride bikes. Let's have fun. Who cares if you are good at it.
I will try to adopt this attitude.
I will also try to write in this blog once a week. Thanks for reading!
10 March 2013
ETB's 10 minute play festival- Hugely disappointed
I was very excited to have my play selected as part of the 10 minute play festival at English Theater Berlin. And I was excited to have the folks from Shakespeare im Park direct my edgy piece, as I knew they were diehard risk takers. Truly, I was looking forward to seeing what they would do with "Fluffers," a play for two women. I wrote the piece for two actresses with my mind on the fact that there are just not that many good roles for women in the theater. I wanted to create a play about a serious and under-represented topic (sex work) in which the characters were not represented as victims and also were the actresses playing the roles got to have fun!
On March 8th, I put on my striped tights, black dress, and favorite hat to attend the premiere of my 10-minute play at English Theater Berlin. I was excited to see my work produced!
I become a little concerned for my play when I looked at the program and realized that there where no women in the cast . The set up of the space was interesting, a hanging vacuum cleaner, currywurst being boiled or fried in the bathroom, huge buckets of ketchup and mayo, peanut shells covering some of the risers, I video projection of a repetitive image on one wall, and the directors, dressed as three choir boys, sitting above it all. "Ok," I thought. "Keep an open mind."
And then it started. The actors, three skilled physical performers dressed in latex Mexican wrestler costumes ate currywurst, lots of it, while the text of the winning plays was projected onto a screen and read by one of three choir boys in either a monotone or very quickly with no inflection or emotion. Also, the use of a vocal distorter made it difficult to understand the language in the text. At the end of every play, a vacuum cleaner hanging from the ceiling switched itself on and off. Then the next piece would start. From an audience perspective, all five pieces looked exactly the same. Though the directors assured me that the choreography for each piece was different, and that they did in fact, pay attention to individual story and try to synthesize the five pieces, it seems that the synthesis was so over-conceptualized that it erased the uniqueness of the individual pieces, and in fact, completely ignored the underlying themes of the 5 individual plays.
I appreciate experimentation and risk-taking, but I wrote a story, then asked my friends and colleagues to take the time to give me their feedback. Then I rewrote it and asked them again. I chose my words carefully, polished them, made sure I said what I wanted to say. I put a lot of work into writing my platy! Then I submitted it to a writing competition, for which the prize was getting to see my work produced onstage. This was an opportunity to see if this play could actually stand on it's feet. AND it was an opportunity for two female actors to have fun with some roles where the characters' identities did not revolve around their relationships with men.
Unfortunately, even though I was one of the skilled playwrights to win the competition, I still have no idea how my play looks onstage or how the dialogue actually reads. And nobody else does either. Winning this contest will not offer me a leg up as an artist. It will not offer any stepping stones in my career because no one will see my work. And what is possibly the most painful part is, now that my work has one a 10-minute play competition and been "produced," there are not many other 10-minute play competitions I can submit "Fluffers" to, as the majority of these competitions only accept new, previously unproduced work.
I feel a little sad and a little screwed. I feel like there is not even one part of my artistic vision or what I had to say politically that was heard or paid attention to by the directors. Honestly, I'd like a do over, but I don't think I'm going to get one.
On March 8th, I put on my striped tights, black dress, and favorite hat to attend the premiere of my 10-minute play at English Theater Berlin. I was excited to see my work produced!
I become a little concerned for my play when I looked at the program and realized that there where no women in the cast . The set up of the space was interesting, a hanging vacuum cleaner, currywurst being boiled or fried in the bathroom, huge buckets of ketchup and mayo, peanut shells covering some of the risers, I video projection of a repetitive image on one wall, and the directors, dressed as three choir boys, sitting above it all. "Ok," I thought. "Keep an open mind."
And then it started. The actors, three skilled physical performers dressed in latex Mexican wrestler costumes ate currywurst, lots of it, while the text of the winning plays was projected onto a screen and read by one of three choir boys in either a monotone or very quickly with no inflection or emotion. Also, the use of a vocal distorter made it difficult to understand the language in the text. At the end of every play, a vacuum cleaner hanging from the ceiling switched itself on and off. Then the next piece would start. From an audience perspective, all five pieces looked exactly the same. Though the directors assured me that the choreography for each piece was different, and that they did in fact, pay attention to individual story and try to synthesize the five pieces, it seems that the synthesis was so over-conceptualized that it erased the uniqueness of the individual pieces, and in fact, completely ignored the underlying themes of the 5 individual plays.
I appreciate experimentation and risk-taking, but I wrote a story, then asked my friends and colleagues to take the time to give me their feedback. Then I rewrote it and asked them again. I chose my words carefully, polished them, made sure I said what I wanted to say. I put a lot of work into writing my platy! Then I submitted it to a writing competition, for which the prize was getting to see my work produced onstage. This was an opportunity to see if this play could actually stand on it's feet. AND it was an opportunity for two female actors to have fun with some roles where the characters' identities did not revolve around their relationships with men.
Unfortunately, even though I was one of the skilled playwrights to win the competition, I still have no idea how my play looks onstage or how the dialogue actually reads. And nobody else does either. Winning this contest will not offer me a leg up as an artist. It will not offer any stepping stones in my career because no one will see my work. And what is possibly the most painful part is, now that my work has one a 10-minute play competition and been "produced," there are not many other 10-minute play competitions I can submit "Fluffers" to, as the majority of these competitions only accept new, previously unproduced work.
I feel a little sad and a little screwed. I feel like there is not even one part of my artistic vision or what I had to say politically that was heard or paid attention to by the directors. Honestly, I'd like a do over, but I don't think I'm going to get one.
06 March 2013
The Dark Piles of Berlin
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| Spring! |
Spring is here! The sun, which so many of us thought would never return, has come back! It is still cold enough to have to wear long underwear under your jeans, yes, but it is not so cold that every little part of your skin that is exposed to the open air automatically starts to hurt! Going outside no longer makes me want come back inside and sleep! My body is again gaining vitamin D! The sun is back!
Last year, winter in Berlin was difficult for me, but I had the fire of new found love for a man and a new city to discover. This kept me going. Now, it's been awhile. Though I'm still relatively new to Berlin, I've lived here for over a year. A lot of the initial glitz and glamor has worn off. To some extent, this happens with relationships, too. None of this is bad. I'm just saying that there was no cushion this winter. And while the Berliners all said that last year's winter was mild, they said this year's winter was long. I thought it was going to kill me. I'm a California girl. I've never really experienced seasons. Yes, San Francisco was gray, especially in the Outer Sunset. And the beach was windy and cold. But the gray and the weather there, it never made me need to sleep all day. It never made me physically ill! Sure, I used to compare the gray sky of winter to a smoker's lung, but this Berlin gray? It's like nothingness! If Crayola made a crayon this color, it would be called Depression. Seriously, this Berlin Gray could suck the joy out of a club kid on 5 hits of Ecstasy. It was a hard, hard winter. I don't think I saw the sun one time from December 23rd to February 28th. No kidding. No sun at all, just a big, gray sheet of sky and cold, cold, cold. I was sick a lot. And even when I wasn't sick, I still just wanted to sleep.
But now there is sun! And with it, people's attitudes are nicer. Three days ago, I was running for the bus, which I was sure would pull away from the stop without me. An African man much closer to the bus than myself ran to it, grabbed the door, said something to the bus driver and pointed at me. This man asked the bus driver to hold the bus! For me! A total stranger! When I finally reached the door, he smiled and walked away. Berlin, what's up? That's just so unlike you. I mean, it's just so friendly! Everyone smiles! I speak more German and folks are more forgiving of my bad grammar. Things don't seem as dark and desperate as they once did. There is sun. There is hope. But there is also another thing. The dark piles.
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| A dark pile. Notice how part of it has been stepped on. It was probably hidden under a layer of snow for WEEKS! |
See, in Berlin, people have dogs. And they love their dogs. And since it is a large city, many people live in small apartments. With there dogs. And they walk their dogs on the street so their dogs can do their business. And then they don't pick up their dog's shit! Seriously! Can you imagine leaving the house to walk your dog without even one plastic bag? You can't? Well then, you must not live in Berlin! So, though Berlin is a beautiful city, it is a beautiful city covered in dog shit!
In the winter, it snows. And people walk their dogs. The dogs shit in the snow, and then the dog shit freezes. And gets covered by more snow. This cycle lasts all winter: Dog shits, shit freezes, snow covers frozen shit, and on and on. Until Spring comes. Then all the snow melts and what is left? A bunch of thawing dogshit. Dark piles. Dark, smelly piles of Berlin.
If you live in Berlin and have a dog, please, pick up it's shit. Help stop this awful epidemic. Please, I, my nose and my shoes beg you. Put a dent in dark piles of Berlin.
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| This dog poop is special! Obviously, the dog took a shit when the snow was deep enough to make the bottom of the fence level with where the poop fell. Then, more snow, so the dog turd became invisible. Now, thawed out dog turd on a fence. Thank you to the person too lazy to pick up your dogs crap! |
03 March 2013
Hochzeit! (Wedding!)
I know that I have neglected this blog. It has been over a month since I posted here. I am going to try to get in the habit of posting weekly, I'll start with some big news.
Robert and I got married on the 26th of February, 2013. This is the first opportunity I have had to sit down and write about it. The whole event, from all the paperwork and bureaucracy leading up to the marriage to just getting ready for the wedding that morning, made me think a lot.
Let's start with the immediate.
Waking up in Neukölln, I hurriedly to my "abdominal workout to fight depression," shower, and do my hair. At this point, Robert is already dressed in his pants, shirt and vest and has made us coffee. Thanks, Robert! I still have to fold myself into my fishnets, put my dress on and do make up. I don't usually wear makeup, so of course I fuck up my eyes a few times, which makes us in even more of a rush than before. We can't be late, either, because the Standesamt will cancle and make us reschedule our wedding. Ack! Being a girlie-girl is time-intensive!
We practically run from U-Blaschkoallee to the Standesamt, about 200 meters away. We get to the second floor and everyone, including Sabine, my interpreter, is already there. But the officials haven't called Robert and I yet, so we can relax.
The waiting area is all teal carpet and fake beechwood. I sit on the floor and remove the jeans and wool tights I'm wearing under my dress to combat the cold. I'm nervous. I feel like everyone is watching me, waiting for me to do something. I don't really know what to do. I sort of want to be alone. Instead, I get sort of funny, commenting on stupid things, telling jokes, and feel grateful when Robert, Sabine and I get called to a small ante-room to show our passports, sign some papers and have the papers that the Standesamt (my birth certificate, etc.) returned. We also selected our music from the selection they had available. We choose "White Wedding" by Billy Idol as our entrance music and "Highway to Hell" by AC/DC as our exit. And then we go back to the waiting room again.
The wedding ceremony was scheduled for 10:40, but it's 10:42, and we are still all in the waiting room. What was that about the German bureaucracy always being on time? Finally, at 10:44, the doors to the ante room open and many people who look like pork come out. They're all very pink and dressed in tuxedos and fancy dresses. The bride is the brightest, in a satin fuschia gown that makes her look like an orchid. And then we go in. Robert and I sit next to each other and the interpreter sits next to me right ear. The Standesbeamtin (person performing the ceremony) didn't know us at all. We never met her before. We didn't have any vows. It was a civil ceremony. Different than any wedding I've ever been to. The interpreter translated in my ear. The Standesbeamtin talked about love and relationship and commitment. I guess I got the watered-down, not horribly romanticized version of what she said. Stuff about how it's important to be an individual and travel at your own pace, but make sure your partner isn't being left in the dust. Then we were asked if we were marrying of our own free will. We both said "Ja," and exchanged the ,20€ rings I got out of a vending machine in Kreuzberg. The Standesbeamtin told us we were then married and we high fived and kissed!
After, Robert and I both had to go sign our Wedding certificate. He signs first, I sign second. As I sign this legal document, AC/DC's "Highway to Hell" begins to play. I am handed the marriage certificate and we all exit. There is a large party of Turkish people in formal wear waiting to enter the room. And so the marriage train continues...
We all get on the U7 the Rauthaus Neukölln to go to the apartment and have a party. And of course cut the cake that our friend Olaf got us!
I am here in Germany for the long haul, like it or not! So I better like it!
The sun came out on Thursday, and it's still shining!
 | |
| Standesamt Neukölln |
Robert and I got married on the 26th of February, 2013. This is the first opportunity I have had to sit down and write about it. The whole event, from all the paperwork and bureaucracy leading up to the marriage to just getting ready for the wedding that morning, made me think a lot.
Let's start with the immediate.
Waking up in Neukölln, I hurriedly to my "abdominal workout to fight depression," shower, and do my hair. At this point, Robert is already dressed in his pants, shirt and vest and has made us coffee. Thanks, Robert! I still have to fold myself into my fishnets, put my dress on and do make up. I don't usually wear makeup, so of course I fuck up my eyes a few times, which makes us in even more of a rush than before. We can't be late, either, because the Standesamt will cancle and make us reschedule our wedding. Ack! Being a girlie-girl is time-intensive!
We practically run from U-Blaschkoallee to the Standesamt, about 200 meters away. We get to the second floor and everyone, including Sabine, my interpreter, is already there. But the officials haven't called Robert and I yet, so we can relax.
 |
| In the waiting room. Is Robert playing golf? |
The waiting area is all teal carpet and fake beechwood. I sit on the floor and remove the jeans and wool tights I'm wearing under my dress to combat the cold. I'm nervous. I feel like everyone is watching me, waiting for me to do something. I don't really know what to do. I sort of want to be alone. Instead, I get sort of funny, commenting on stupid things, telling jokes, and feel grateful when Robert, Sabine and I get called to a small ante-room to show our passports, sign some papers and have the papers that the Standesamt (my birth certificate, etc.) returned. We also selected our music from the selection they had available. We choose "White Wedding" by Billy Idol as our entrance music and "Highway to Hell" by AC/DC as our exit. And then we go back to the waiting room again.
 |
| I feel so weird standing here. And yet I won't just sit down. |
The wedding ceremony was scheduled for 10:40, but it's 10:42, and we are still all in the waiting room. What was that about the German bureaucracy always being on time? Finally, at 10:44, the doors to the ante room open and many people who look like pork come out. They're all very pink and dressed in tuxedos and fancy dresses. The bride is the brightest, in a satin fuschia gown that makes her look like an orchid. And then we go in. Robert and I sit next to each other and the interpreter sits next to me right ear. The Standesbeamtin (person performing the ceremony) didn't know us at all. We never met her before. We didn't have any vows. It was a civil ceremony. Different than any wedding I've ever been to. The interpreter translated in my ear. The Standesbeamtin talked about love and relationship and commitment. I guess I got the watered-down, not horribly romanticized version of what she said. Stuff about how it's important to be an individual and travel at your own pace, but make sure your partner isn't being left in the dust. Then we were asked if we were marrying of our own free will. We both said "Ja," and exchanged the ,20€ rings I got out of a vending machine in Kreuzberg. The Standesbeamtin told us we were then married and we high fived and kissed!
 |
| The ceremony |
 |
| Roberts signs |
 |
| I sign with the interpreter and AC/DC starts blaring! |
 |
| I have the marriage certificate in my hand |
 | ||
| After the Ceremony, outside the Standesamt |
 | |
| Thanks for the cake, Olaf! |
I am here in Germany for the long haul, like it or not! So I better like it!
The sun came out on Thursday, and it's still shining!
18 January 2013
English Theater Berlin, Teaching English, Winter
This blog has become less than regular, partially because I'm very busy and partially because my life is just a bit overwhelming to me right now, but some exciting events have happened and I just have to tell you all about them. I'll save them for the end, so you'll read the whole thing.
It's January in Berlin and snow sometimes falls in fat flakes, sticking in my eyelashes so I have to blink them away. At 4 o' clock, the sun begins to descend and the world turns a beautiful and cool shade of blue, earth and sky a mirror of periwinkle and still. It is a time of Hot Chocolate with rum, inside time, quiet introspection.
After several years, I have begun my meditation practice again. It's short, usually only 5 or 10 minutes of sitting and breathing, clearing the mind. Hopefully it will help me make wise decisions, be more patient with myself and others, and remember that I can be self-reliant.
Another thing that continually teaches me patience is teaching English. I have 3 or 4 regular clients. I either go to their homes or they come here. Teaching adults is great fun. Who knew? They are motivated, want to learn! One of my clients is a pharmacist, so we talk about medicine and illness. I get to plumb the depths of my mind for information I used to know when I worked at veterinary hospitals. This client also has a huge framed print of Laurel and Hardy hanging over the sofa in her living room. We are definitely a good match. Then there are the two women who come to my kitchen on Thursday evenings. They both work with physically disabled adults. They are very in touch with their creative minds. We analyze poetry and read feminist biographies, exploring vocabulary and cultural idioms. I usually have these clients on the same day, the pharmacist in the morning and the two women in the evening. I love these days. I get to flex my science brain, my teacher brain, and my creative mind all at once! Love it!
My other regular client is a 13 year old boy who's father doesn't speak any English but wants his son to speak English. The kid is 13. Do you think he wants to have more learning time after school, or do you think he wants to play Minecraft?
I even tried to talk to him about his videogames, but this kid does not give a fuck. But it's a job. It can't all be wonderful, right.
I have also been contracted to begin teaching English in Kitas, schools, and private homes, so that is very exciting.
Also, possibly the BEST news is that not only a I performing my 8-minute solo clown piece "ShameNoShame!" at English Theater Berlin's Expat Expo on February 28th, but my 10-minute play "Fluffers" has been selected as one of 5 plays to be produced in the 10-minute play festival at English Theater Berlin in March. The premiere is March 8th, and I will be there!
It's January in Berlin and snow sometimes falls in fat flakes, sticking in my eyelashes so I have to blink them away. At 4 o' clock, the sun begins to descend and the world turns a beautiful and cool shade of blue, earth and sky a mirror of periwinkle and still. It is a time of Hot Chocolate with rum, inside time, quiet introspection.
After several years, I have begun my meditation practice again. It's short, usually only 5 or 10 minutes of sitting and breathing, clearing the mind. Hopefully it will help me make wise decisions, be more patient with myself and others, and remember that I can be self-reliant.
Another thing that continually teaches me patience is teaching English. I have 3 or 4 regular clients. I either go to their homes or they come here. Teaching adults is great fun. Who knew? They are motivated, want to learn! One of my clients is a pharmacist, so we talk about medicine and illness. I get to plumb the depths of my mind for information I used to know when I worked at veterinary hospitals. This client also has a huge framed print of Laurel and Hardy hanging over the sofa in her living room. We are definitely a good match. Then there are the two women who come to my kitchen on Thursday evenings. They both work with physically disabled adults. They are very in touch with their creative minds. We analyze poetry and read feminist biographies, exploring vocabulary and cultural idioms. I usually have these clients on the same day, the pharmacist in the morning and the two women in the evening. I love these days. I get to flex my science brain, my teacher brain, and my creative mind all at once! Love it!
My other regular client is a 13 year old boy who's father doesn't speak any English but wants his son to speak English. The kid is 13. Do you think he wants to have more learning time after school, or do you think he wants to play Minecraft?
I even tried to talk to him about his videogames, but this kid does not give a fuck. But it's a job. It can't all be wonderful, right.
I have also been contracted to begin teaching English in Kitas, schools, and private homes, so that is very exciting.
Also, possibly the BEST news is that not only a I performing my 8-minute solo clown piece "ShameNoShame!" at English Theater Berlin's Expat Expo on February 28th, but my 10-minute play "Fluffers" has been selected as one of 5 plays to be produced in the 10-minute play festival at English Theater Berlin in March. The premiere is March 8th, and I will be there!
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