So, it is my 5th day back in Berlin. As I start to write this, I don’t feel prepared yet to discuss the so-called “feelings” I have been experiencing since I’ve been here, so I am going to start talking about all the physical things that I have done and then hope that, by the end of it, I will be inspired by my emotions.

Last night, I met up with Andy for a BBQ and Moonshine mash making session, because apparently we aspire to be swamp people. He and four of his “bros” went to his place and cooked up some meat on the grill, as well as some gourmet sides (goat cheese stuffed mushrooms, bacon wrapped white asparagus, and a fancy little cucumber tomato onion salad with from-scratch dressing), as is Andy’s wheelhouse. After dinner, we started on the mash, which essentially consisted of throwing a few packages of wheat bran and corn meal into a big glass jar, adding cold water, and then adding a warm sugar solution and some yeast. I would also like to mention that it was at this point when I quietly suggested that we might not want to fill the jars up too much because there needs to be space for gas to evolve. Emphasis on “quietly” suggested, as I am no expert in moonshining.

Turns out I should have been louder, because the first thing I hear from Andy this morning is that he’s cleaning mash off the ceiling because the damn things exploded! Lesson learned: Be more aware of how much yeast you should be using.

Today I went to the Mauerpark flea market as was my Sunday MO this time last year. I wore Gillian, the acid wash denim jacket I got there the first time I went to Mauerpark (which there are pictures of in an earlier post). After wandering aimlessly a bit, I decided it’d be nice to go off to the side and read in the grass. I saw a band of five bow-tie wearing Swedish lads setting up their equipment, so I decided to grab myself a front row seat before anyone else showed up, in case they were any good. They were fittingly named The Bowties, and they were so charming! They played a mix of like, funk and pop, which was super catchy.

Two (or three) saxophones! What!

While I was listening to them, a lady come up to me where I was sitting and asked, “Do you speak English?” I said yes and she proceeded to tell me that she was a freelance makeup artist slash photographer and she liked my style (whilst pointing to Gillian). She asked how long I’d be in Berlin, and if I’d be able to do a photoshoot for her! Obviously I was flattered so I was like, heck yes, while being secretly paranoid that I was playing into a scam (and also thinking things like, I hope she doesn’t notice the plethora of zits on my chin, my crooked nose, my nasty split ends, etc.). Regardless, I sent her an email and looked her up and I think she does adorable work. She goes by “O” and here is her website. We will see if everything works out and if I end up on there eventually maybe, whoooo knows? I am grateful to Gillian for making people think/making me feel cooler than I am. 😉

Like seriously, how hot is this picture? Photo Cred: Elise Kammerer (photographer)

After these shenanigans, I started to work my way back to the U-Bahn, when I stopped to listen to another busker band on the street. These guys were from New Zealand and they were called The Charity Children. They were soooo good. Just the picture of Kiwi-adorable. They kinda sounded like a mixture of Regina Spektor and Of Monsters of Men + an orchestral element. They’re having an album release party on July 11th at Festsaal. Not sure if I’ll be around then as I might be in Bosnia or London, but I’d love to be able to go!

Playing the sweet little diddy "Elizabeth", which is a free download on Facebook, and also reminds me of my wonderful mother :)

I don’t want this post to get too crazy, so I think I’ll save my mushy gushy feelings for a separate post. Just for a little preview, I plan to talk about my hostel situation (with some possibly creepy stories), how my severe nostalgia for Berlin made coming back feel much weirder than anticipated, and how my purpose here is inherently different than it was before. Stay tuned!

Today had a serious theme. Which is weird. Days shouldn’t have themes. It makes you feel like something is controlling the things that are happening to you.

Anyway, today’s theme was “flashbacks”. It started with me getting on the U-Bahn and picking out a song to listen to on my phone. I noticed a playlist I had subscribed to on Rdio had “Crooked Teeth” by Death Cab on it, which I hadn’t listened to in SO long, so I decided to play it. I know it’s kind of a lame song to have this reaction to, but it gave me the most insane goosebumps. It’s hard to explain. It transported me to a completely different time in my life, and it made me so cognizant of how different everything is around me. Being in Berlin, being as old as I am, having the friends I do, how often I talk to my family. Everything is different from when I was 16 or however old I was when I used to listen to that song on repeat. I realize it sounds cheesy when I put it into words like that, but it’s hard to describe a feeling like that, and for me it can only ever be brought on by music or familiar smells.

The U-Bahn eventually took me to the Arkonaplatz flea market (or close to it) where I bummed around by myself for a while, before meeting Katie at the Boxhagenerstrasse flea market. So many fleas. It was quite a successful outing, if only for our kick-ass, almost matching athletic brand rings. If these aren’t geil, then I don’t know what is.

... I don't really know what "geil" is.

Don’t be offended by Katie’s crassness. Or how weird our fingers look, we were both a bit self-conscious about that.

To keep with the flashback theme, this adorable cafe we went to called “Factory Girl !” (space+exclamation point included) had Kalter Hund (literally “cold dog”), which is this FUCKING DELICIOUS fudgy treat with little biscuits inside.

It is unfortunately not particularly photogenic.

I have never seen it aside from when my mother makes it at Christmas. I was starting to think it was her own evil creation she had concocted to persuade me to do her bidding. But I suppose it is actually part of a much larger, perhaps government-run mind control plot.

It’s seriously that delicious.

So then Katie and I parted ways and I came home to my beautiful roommates and David (possible future roommate). To have a little short-term flashback, Micha, David, and I met up with some of their friends on Saturday to go out to a club, which was lovely as usual. When we got home around 7 am we were absolutely starving and had Breakfast: Part 1 which consisted of leftover potatoes and noodles from dinner. Then we slept for a few hours, and had Breakfast: Part Deux, which was much more traditional. David made eggs and we had bread and cheese and strawberries and apples and orange juice. Here’s proof:

Micha and David so sleepy-happy. Slappy.

I’m going to have to have more flashbacks in the morning because I am too sleepy to go over all the stuff I’ve done in the past couple weeks, but they’ve been pretty good. I’ve gone to concerts and clubs and eaten yummy things. Can’t ask for much more. To conclude, how awesome is this apartment building?

The correct answer is: D) Wicked awesome.

Goodnight world! I hope you’re as beautiful in the morning as you seem at 3 am. 😉

While there is a strange twisted element of joy when I’m writing pages and pages of bitching, the horrible bureaucratic period has ended and I no longer feel the same resentment toward Berlin. In fact, I’m feeling quite the opposite (just as everyone probably expected).

On April 6, I met with a graduate student in the Americanistik department to discuss my studies. I was still reeling from the horrible experiences I had in the days prior, so I was looking forward to just talking about what I should expect for the future. I didn’t have a lot to say or ask, I just wanted to get my bearings and make sure I had someone to turn to if I got overwhelmed. I hadn’t anticipated how sweet Manuela would be, and she even too me on a tour Kreuzberg, including visiting an old hospital that was converted to an art gallery. It was right next to where the wall used to be, and it was really cool and somewhat eerie to imagine being a patient in that hospital and being able to see the wall from your window.

This is me, leaning against a strange nose man painted on the wall.

Manuela!

A few days later, I got crepes at Anna Blume with my friends Katie and Jake, who I met through Kustos “cultural training”.

Katie and Jake with what's left of their yummies

Mmmmm it was delicious. And sooo pretty, I wish I had gotten a picture of my plate before I devoured it. Guess I’ll just have to go back. Darn.

Last Sunday, I had my first German flea market experience at Mauerpark with Jake and our friend Pierce (whose name isn’t actually Pierce. But we’re trying to make Pierce stick so I can’t spread around his real name). It was the coolest thing. I see myself going back every single week (I went again today). Here’s a little taste of the experience:

Feather sweater.

This jacket is my new wardrobe staple. Not kidding.

Jake cheesin' in his new jacket

Pierce in a kickass coat. It was unfortunately not purchased. :(

There was also a little beer garden type thing with a sand pit and beach chairs, so of course we grabbed some brewskis and Wurst and lounged at the end of it all.

Classic Pierce.

Man, I feel like this post was super boring. To be quite honest, I did a bad thing by waiting so long to post because the emotions of each day are a bit difficult to recall. Hopefully something exciting will happen in the next couple of days so I have an excuse to write another post. The problem is, the events that affect me the most are always the simplest. Eating doners and drinking beer on a bridge (“the cool people bridge”) with Jake, having a nice breakfast with Julie and Micha, emerging from the U-Bahn station with Katie and always getting lost despite thinking we know exactly where we need to go. These things are my absolute favorite. But at the time, they don’t seem picture-worthy, and I have a hard time explaining what it is that makes me so happy, so it’s difficult to write a post about it. Hopefully I’ll be able to capture the feeling in writing at some point, so I can look back on it.

I expected today to be a calm day, a day to check some important things off my to-do list and feel accomplished. It’s possible I am both incompetent and dramatic, and someone else with half a brain would have been able to reach this goal. Not this bitch. My two goals were: 1) Register at the Bürgeramt (registration office) to declare myself a resident of Berlin, and 2) Get to Humboldt between 10am and noon for “Immatrikulation” (which I assumed would be to get my student ID card and whatnot).

I got on the U-Bahn around 10:15 after a nice, big (stolen) breakfast with Julie, Aunt Karrie, Uncle Marty, and the little cousins at Karrie and Marty’s hotel. I ate so much, I was literally one shove from a Frau away from getting off at the next stop and tossing my cookies onto the nearest trash receptacle. But I took a few deep breaths and labored on. It took me three transfers to different trains to get where I needed to go, but I finally found the stop and was pleased with myself for doing it all alone. I emerge from the U-Bahn station to find myself among a bunch of HUGE buildings with names I don’t understand. I ran up and down the street for 20 minutes trying to find the Bürgeramt, until I finally decided to ask someone at a local business where it is. “Es ist da druben!” RIGHT by the U-Bahn station I came out of. Screw getting pissed of about it, I go inside and everything is in German, crazy big words I don’t understand. I figure out I need to take a number and wait. I’m number 222. After a few minutes, I go into an office to see if I really have to wait since I’m a German citizen and just need a Freedom of Movement pass. I ask, “ist Englisch OK?” The lady shakes her head. What the fuck are you doing working in a registration office then? So I say, “ich bin eine Studentin. Ich komme aus Amerika, aber ich habe ein Deutsches Pass. Was soll ich machen?” She gave me a form and told me to wait for my number to be called. I took the form, filled it out, and looked at the most recent number called: 158. Fuck me. It’s 11:30 at this point. Fuck it, I have to go to Humboldt.

I get to Humboldt around 11:55 and I am speed walking like I’ve never speed walked before. This school is a maze so I’m trying to follow the few black and white, 8.5″x11″ flyers they have posted for Immatrikulation, but at one point outside, they just stop. I assume that means it must be through the nearest door, so I go in and it’s a goddamn cafe. The hell. So I ask the lady working if she knows where “Immatrikulation” (which I can’t pronounce like a German for the life of me) is, and she gives me this dumbfounded look and says she has no idea. So I’m running around frantically for a little, until I happen to run into an Italian PhD student who happens to be looking for the same thing I am. He speaks excellent German but I can’t understand him because of his freaking accent, and obviously I can’t speak to him whatsoever, so I’m mostly nodding and giggling at inappropriate moments and just generally being a herp derp. We finally find the desk where we need to be, I am sweating like a motherfucker, and I get to the front of the line, where I spell my last name in half German half English, which doesn’t work when you have vowels in your name because German and English conveniently pronounce different vowels the same way. 

So that takes a little bit, and the guy barely speaks any English so it was painful for us to communicate, then he says I need to go downstairs and pay my student fees. I backtrack the maze I just solved, get to the cashier, only to find it’s closed from 12-1 (it’s 12:15). I considered going back to the Bürgeramt and praying I would get there just in time for my number to be called, but decided against it. So I go to the cafe, buy a coffee, try to connect to wifi which of COURSE doesn’t work. I learned later it’s complicated as fuck to connect to it. So I put a piece of paper in front of me to pretend to read, while really I was just sitting there waiting for time to pass. I read over the paper I was sent back in January that told me all the formalities I had to get through, and confirmed it said I can pay my fees with cash or card. Then it’s 1, I go back to the cashier, get to the front of the line, give the cashier my card and, “… cash only.” So the cashier directed me to the nearest bank. Deutsche Bank, exit from the main entrance of Humboldt, turn right, and keep going straight. I do this, walk for probably 1-2 km, NO DEUTSCHE BANK. I’m asking businesses, people on the street, no one knows where a goddamn bank is. 

I literally walk aimlessly until I talk to a business that happens to be right next to a place with a bunch of cash machines. I take out the money, which probably cost me an arm and a leg but I don’t give a damn at this point. I walk all the way back to the cashier, pay my stuff. Then it’s time to confirm my insurance. I go back to where I was earlier and go to the room where I was directed. There are multiple things going on in this room and it is really hard for me to tell where I am supposed to be. I see two business-looking guys at a table with a placard that reads “Krankenkasse” (I think) which means like, sick cashier. So I’m like, “is this where I go for… Insurance?” They don’t speak any English either so I’m ripping my hair out while they are trying to explain to me that I need to decide whether to keep my travel insurance or buy their German insurance, and they’re treating me like a moron because they’re trying to convince me having German insurance is better and I AM a moron because I can’t understand half of what they’re saying. They give me a form I don’t fully understand, so I leave to go fill it out. They said they would be there until 4, and it’s like 2:30.

I’ve almost had it at this point, and I am DYING to find some wifi and cry to my parents. The only place I know of the consistently has wifi is Starbucks, so that’s where I went. There’s on about 10 minutes from my school, but every time I’ve been there, it’s been super crowded. Today was no exception. So I buy a coffee and the biggest, chocolatiest cupcake I could find and squeeze into the only seat available, which is at a stool facing the window. Whatever, I wolf down my cupcake but feel too awkward to call on the phone, especially since my parents might not even be awake. 

At about 3 I realize I won’t even be able to go back to Humboldt unless I get some support, so I stand in a corner and call my parents. And immediately start crying. Not loud crying. Silent, tears streaming down my face crying, so I try to pretend I’m looking at mugs or something so no one can see my face. They console me, tell me I’m so brave, which always makes me cry more. So thanks a lot mom and dad. 

Eventually I fill out the form and get back to Humboldt around 3:45. I’m not even sure what I filled out and signed, but I give it to them, and everything seems okay. They hand me back a form that appears to be a confirmation that I have insurance. I try to hide my puffy eyes and say, “Es tut mir sehr Leid. Ich war so schwer für euch.” (“I’m so sorry. I was so hard for you guys.” Wow, I just realized that doesn’t even make sense in English.) Then he says, “Du? Nein.” I still don’t know if he was being sarcastic or nice, but I’m going to pretend it was nice because, you know, ignorance is bliss and whatever. 

After going to another Starbucks and connecting with some friends and family, I came home and cried in Julie’s arms. She gave me Nutella and bread and that was quite possibly the best possible end to the worst possible day. 

Ahhhh it’s nice to finally be in Berlin after like 18 hours total of getting here. The flight(s) were less stressful than I expected, and Icelandair has the best coffee I have ever tasted in my life.

Apparently there are 7 words in Icelandic for "cup".

By my friend Tyler’s recommendation, my first meal abroad was a doner kebab. Freaking delicious. Here is some food porn.

... This is as good as porn gets on a phone camera.

So. Here I am. I am currently sitting in my room drinking a free little bottle of champagne the hotel left in my room. So nett! I’m also watching what I can only describe as a German version of House Hunters (it’s called “mieten kaufen wohnen”). Watching TV here is pretty much studying, right?

Especially when it involves champagne. ChemEs know what I'm talking about.

It’s really hard to describe how I’ve been feeling because I’ve never felt this way before. I’m constantly nervous and self conscious, and just kinda feel like I’m in the wrong place. I feel happy and excited and I want to go see everything, but I’m afraid I’m going to do something inadvertently rude or people think I’m gross or… I don’t even know! I need to shut my head up because it doesn’t matter. I need to just live my life. I’m already doing a bad job of that, though. Today I have eaten a piece of cake and pretty much a whole pizza. That’s all. I think I’m clinging to what I know I am able to say and not doing the things I’m used to.

The cake and coffee I managed to order. Mmmmm. This seems to be quickly reverting to a food blog.

Today was really fun, though. Until I move into my apartment (hopefully tomorrow, I will write a post about that soon), I have been staying in a hotel with my uncle Marty and aunt Karrie and my little cousins Josie and Ben. I really appreciated that they did that for me, but I didn’t realize until now how much it has helped me get out and get acquainted with everything. Today we took a bus to my school which is BEAUTIFUL. I had not realized how beautiful. It is really amazing, hopefully I can get better pictures of the area because the one that I got does not do it justice.

This one. Meh. Trust me, it's pretty.

On the bus over there, a little girl was sitting on her mom’s lap and she was just hilarious to listen to. She was talking about a whole bunch of random things, but talking in such clear and slow German, I could actually understand her. She was like, “Was ist das in Obstsalat? Pampelmuse? Was ist das denn, Brandenburger Tor? Brandenburger Torrrrrrrrrrr!” It was darling, and she sounded so intelligent just because she was speaking a language other than English. I wanted to get a picture of her but that would have been creepy.

I will write soon about my apartment! It is the most beautiful thing and my cousin, Julie, deserves a trophy for finding it. My god, I don’t know what I would do without her at this point.

My room so far. Again, this picture doesn't show off it's awesomeness, but I will get a better one.

That’s all for now! Bis spater, meine liebchens!