I may as well start a food blog...

To display my shockingly edgy culinary inventions:

As it gets colder, the supermarket seems to move farther and farther away from my apartment, and I continuously hear the carbohydrate gods whispering to me that it is indeed okay for me to make pasta once again.  But after consuming a craftily prepared meal of dry muesli in a cup, I’ve realized that it is once again time to make the ten minute voyage to the store.  I’ve made grilled cheese, pasta, grilled vegetables, and yogurt/muesli/banana a number of times… so if anyone has culinary advice for quasi-chefs with limited ingredients, feel free to let me know. 

Yesterday I went to an English comedy night, an event made popular by the Couchsurfing community… I actually think pretty much all the people there were Couchsurfers.  It was really interesting talking to the people there about their successful Couchsurfing experiences and realizing that not all couch offerers are killers of children, but in fact great nice people.  The comedy show was also one of the strangest, yet entertaining things I’ve seen in a while.  There were a few regular comedians, all very funny, and then there was a puppeteer with beautifully handmade puppets, though with a skit that hardly made sense (he was the only German performer, yet did his skit in an attempt at English).  Summary: two people with huge noses are looking for each other, hit their noses on the table constantly, can’t find each other, two piles of poop are introduced to the stage, one gets killed by a foot, the other comes alive, but is also eventually killed by a foot, even after stealthily escaping the evil plastic bag.  It was interesting.

There was one man who accurately played famous compositions by slightly opening his mouth while strategically tapping his cheeks, which was pretty impressive.  He also did a series of mostly wordless skits.  I wish I could accurately act them out, they were really really funny. 

Lastly, there was a surprise performance.  A pink onesie with a completely zipped up hood was lead to the stage where it crawled on and awkwardly danced around a bit after taping large eyeballs to its face area.  After a bit, the onesie unzipped itself to reveal a very unexpected belly dancer underneath.  Also, interesting.

After the performance I spoke to some of the comedians and some of the audience members.  While talking to the comedians, the difference in personality between the regular monologue comedians and the guy who did the funny/creative skits was quite obvious.  While the comedian could not turn off entertainer mindset, the skit dude seemed more reserved and capable of having a serious conversation.  It was cool to see both of their attempts at interacting offstage and how similar their real personalities are to the ones they try to professionally portray.

After the show, the next stop was an all night showing of the first season of Twin Peaks.  Even though I slept through nearly the entire episode after realizing that it is not the kind of show you can watch from the middle and understand what is going on, it was cool to be in this strange bar with all the Twin Peaks fanatics committed to staying there till 8 in the morning.  However, we left after one episode.

To do: brush up on cartography skills

I studied Googlemaps, made my own map (which I later realized lacked many essential street names), committed names to memory.  I was ready.  But I wasn’t.  After walking for twenty minutes in an area in which the only stores I passed were an occasional grocery store and one church, I decided that it was time to take a gander at a bus stop map.  It was then that I realized I was not in fact heading towards that place where those two streets crossed and became that other street.  Nope, I was walking towards that parky area instead.  After comforting myself with the fact that I was at least capable of finding the right street (for the direction was easy to correct!) I headed back the way I came, shamefully passed the Merlitzer Platz U-bahn station I recently exited from, and continued walking down Oranienstrasse.   Earlier I had asked my German teacher if she knew of any art supply stores I could go to to procure a paintbrush for my amateur artistic masterpieces (not really) and she knew of two in Kreuzberg, an area I previously believed I was somewhat familiar with (“previously” implying this morning.  I have since shed that belief).  I walked this new direction, feeling pretty good about it.  There were people and stores and restaurants, which are all good signs for potential art supplying locations, I think.  After walking for a while, I realized that I had probably passed the art store I had located on a map earlier that day.  So I asked for directions, found out there were two stores in the area, went to both of them, they were closed.  At least that’s what I inferred from the locked doors and a German sign I could not come close to comprehending.  But the trip was not a failure! I went to a nearby bookstore and got two German children’s books, though it was a hard decision since the artwork in many of them was so beautiful, and I had little else to base my decision off of.  One of the books I bought was “Die kleine Raupe Nimmerstatt” or “The Very Hungry Caterpiller”.  It is tiny and adorable and German.  I also found a nut bar (I ordered in German!), some cool clothing shops, and a lot of cafes with wonderful seeming atmospheres.  After my series of failures (garnished with a few successes) it was time to meet my new Freie Universitat German buddy.  It was a great meeting and she seems like a very interesting girl, even though she laughed whenever I said a single word in German (she claimed that she liked how it sounded and it had nothing to do with my complete mispronunciations). 

Some day some how I will find a paintbrush, but as for now I have some delicious wasabi peanuts and Eric Carle’s greatest hit, so I can’t complain.  

Chocolates, waffles, fries (& repeat)

This past weekend my friend Melanie and I took a trip to Brussels.  It was a somewhat last minute decision, and we didn't actually know where we were going to stay until the day before, but we ended up staying with some of Melanie's distant family that she hadn't ever met before, or knew existed before last week, who were incredibly helpful and wonderful to us.  It was a really great, jam packed trip, beginning at 3:00 on Friday morning and ending on Sunday night when we luckily caught a plane at 19:40 we thought would depart at 21:00.
The moment I got off the train in the Brussel's Central Station, I immediately started assessing the differences and similarities between Brussels and Berlin.  Since a lot of Berlin was rebuilt quite recently and Brussels has remained for many many years, the differences were clear and beautiful, both the aesthetics and general feeling there were really positive.
I figured we didn't necessarily need a map since Brussels wasn't too large and after getting out of the train station and looking around, we'd be able to get our bearings.  Turns out it's a little difficult to orient yourself in a city you've never been in before.  We walked around the center area for about one and a half hours before finding Grand Place, since I was too embarrassed to ask someone for directions in fear that it was actually right behind me, but it didn't really matter because we got to explore a lot of the city throughout our blind search.  Later, we ended up getting some (free!) maps (made for young travelers, by locals!), which were incredibly helpful in both Bruges and Brussels.

During our first few hours in Brussels, we saw the Manneken Pis (both real [which is tiny] and jumbo), ate some waffles, sampled chocolate from some shops, and drank a lot of coffee.

Jumbo Manneken Pis eating a waffle with us

After the caffeine, we visited the Magritte Museum.  Although I had forgotten since my high school art history days, this museum reminded me that there is something about Surrealism that moves me and I haven't quite figured out why, but I do want to look into Magritte more and perhaps find out.  In any case, I really enjoyed the museum.

"To be a surrealist is to banish the notion of "déjà vu" and seek out the not yet seen." -René Magritte

After the museum, Melanie's uncle and cousin picked us up and took us to lunch and showed us around the city more.  Her cousin took us to a bar called Delirium which at some point was in the Guinness Book of World Records for having the most variety of beer.  We then went to a showing of an Ecuadorian documentary about soccer players from El Chota Valley.  By the end of the day,  I had practically forgotten what country I was in.  We got to Brussels, ate Belgian waffles, met Spanish speaking Ecuadorians (who talked to the servers in French), ate Italian Lunch, watched and Ecuadorian documentary, and finished the day with some Lebanese cuisine.  Although the mélange was a little confusing, it was kind of cool to see my seven years of Spanish education at work.  I was surprised by how much of their conversations I understood, but still a little too embarrassed to join in.
On Saturday we went to the Belgian town of Bruges, which did not seem like a real city at all, but rather a land of fairy tales.  Although it was beautiful, I cannot understand how anyone could permanently reside there without admitting to themselves that they'd prefer not to live in the real world.  Incidentally,  I believe most of the people walking the streets with us were tourists, but some of the bikers I nearly got run over by multiple time must have been residents.  We toured a Belgian brewery, ate Belgian fries, went inside numerous beautiful churches, saw Michelangelo's Madonna and Child, walked A LOT, and finished the day with a delicious Brussels Belgian waffle (apparently there is a difference) and instant sleep as soon as I was horizontal.

On Sunday we stayed in Brussels and explored what else it has to offer.  While riding on the tram, it was interesting to see all the Art Nouveau style architecture around the city, especially since I had just learned about Art Nouveau in one of my classes.  It was evident in a lot of beautiful black balconies, which stood out against the mostly plain colored buildings.  After getting off the tram, we saw the Japanese and Chinese donations from the World's Fair:

Japanese Donation

The Atomium (the dorky tourist pictures were absolutely necessary, everyone was doing it):

And took a tour of the Parlamentarium.  After buying more chocolate, more cookies, and more Belgian fries, it was time to head back to the airport to barely make our flight.

In conclusion,

Street art in Berlin is amazing

And it felt kind of cool to be  able to have a conversation with someone explaining the whereabouts of different locations by describing the graffiti adjacent to it.  Who needs street names and addresses when you have artistic landmarks?

Kreuzberg

Stale, but warm...

One thing I’ve learned about Berliners is that they have a strange fondness for fresh air.  This might appear to not be such a strange fascination, but when it’s 35 degrees outside, I didn’t think it would be a priority to open windows to alleviate the stuffiness.  It is.  For every class I’ve taken, the professor always insists on opening the windows during our break for this “fresh air.”  I guess the significance of fresh air isn’t as emphasized in America, but I did have much appreciation for it recently.  Yesterday was the first day in a while that the sun made an appearance for longer than three minutes, and me and a few friends celebrated by going to a market with both artistic and antique stands.  It was so nice to be outside and for our clothes to maintain their state of dryness, as well as see all kinds of interesting displays.  After the market, we went to the Neues Museum (I had gone to the Altes Museum the previous day), which had really impressive architecture and interior design, and that is all I will comment on it. 

Last night I went with a friend to an authentic German concert, we saw the band In Golden Tears after I conducted a very thorough search of “live music Berlin January 14” on Google.  Although it was a rash decision, it ended up being a successful one.  The band was great and high energy, and it also just felt nice to be surrounded by real Germans instead of a crowd of fellow Americans, who tend to frequently remain close by.

As far as classes go, I’m pretty excited for all of them, especially Perspectives on 20^th Century Art in Central Europe.  Like the few art history professors I’ve experienced, my teacher seems so passionate about the subject.  I couldn’t help but wildly scribble down many of his casual comments I found to be wonderfully profound.  With teachers who immediately make a positive impression on me, I have to consistently remind myself to think about what they say subjectively, and not immediately mark it as a definite noble truth.  Anyway, I think I will enjoy.

In the time I’ve been here, my culinary skills have been devoted to cooking pasta with store bought pesto as well as the occasional toast with melted cheese and paprika.  Since having my own kitchen and ability to make something other than popcorn was one of the things I was really excited for, I’m hoping that my culinary ventures will get slightly more advanced in the weeks to come. 

Market next to Museum Island

A German experience I may have to skip

Small people, small places, small things

For some reason, the bus ride home from school today was different.  It definitely wasn’t because I was more aware and perceptive, because for a while I completely zoned out and thought I had missed my stop.  On the first day I was in Berlin I took the bus to Rathaus Steglitz, a stop that has a mall right by it and a bunch of other stores (it’s also the stop closest to my school).  I was going there to get a phone and attempt to achieve functioning Internet.  On the bus ride there, I was admittedly a little disappointed with the scenery.  There was nothing devastating or hideous, everything just seemed kind of ordinary, and I guess I was looking for something to pop out dramatically and amaze me.  I don’t really know what I was thinking then, maybe my perception was somewhat influenced by the jetlag/shock/homesickness I was experiencing.  Today on my way home, I realized that almost every single thing I was looking at was beautiful.  The old buildings with detailed architecture, the occasional distinctly bright colored home, and even the rusty fences with designs I know someone put a lot of thought into.   It was completely wonderful, which is why I thought I had already missed my stop.  I had never really noticed (in the week I’ve been here) how much character even the residential parts of Berlin contain. 

In addition to my magnificent bus ride, today after Deutsch class I went with a friend to the East Side Gallery for the first time.  I am not one for cliché inspirational quotes, but the fact that some of these quotes were painted so beautifully on such a significant, serious part of history made them much more powerful.  It was not a greeting card or a Facebook post that was delivering these quotes to the world, but a piece of history that once represented oppression and obligatory isolation.  I get chills even writing about it.  Even though I’m not familiar with any of them, I felt like every artist who contributed to painting the wall really felt strongly about their art and what they wanted to represent.  The juxtaposition of all the different expressive styles made it all the more powerful.  I’m not implying that art that hangs in museums is less expressive or significant, because I definitely get thrills from paintings on canvas as well, but there’s something about the synthesis of ugly historical structures and fine art that really moves me.

Although I don’t love being an obvious tourist, I also couldn’t help but poke my head around excitedly on the U-bahn ride to the East Side Gallery and back.  Every neighborhood that we passed had beautifully radiant buildings, graffiti, and life.  I was tempted to hop off at every stop and explore.  But alas, I have four months.  There is time. 

"Many small people, who in many small places, do many small things, can alter the face of the world"

"Bruderkiss" by Dmitrji Vrubel

Leonid Breshnev kissing Eric Honecker

"He who wants the world to remain as it is doesn't want it to remain at all" -Afrikanische Weischeit

New perspectives

When you search for the Brandenburg gate on the internet, the pictures that appear present the gate either beautifully illuminated while contrasted with a black night sky or with a magnificent backdrop of ocean blue.  The photographers that captured these photos neglect to share the gate in a more subdued atmosphere, without the distracting radiance of backlights or sunshine.  

However, after walking around historic Berlin under a gray overcast sky splattering icy water for four hours, I am able to share this unique angle with you.  

Brandenburg Gate

Berlin Cathedral

Holocaust Memorial 

Part of the Berlin Wall which stands in the middle of Potsdamer Platz

Berlin pigeons through the ages

A brief update of my yesterday:

Yesterday we went on a tour of a World War II air-raid shelter, complete with a really enthusiastic tour guide and interesting memorabilia.  Since most of the shelters were destroyed after the war, this is one of the only ones that remain.  Since is right next to a train station, Gesundbrunnen, there was no way for Germans to clean up their past without demolishing the present.  Our tour guide also mentioned the well known Nazi fear of an impure population, a fear which has definitely become a pleasant reality.  Since I've gotten here I've met a bunch of Japanese, English, Spanish, Turkish, Italian... very diverse population to say the least.

Did you know that during World War II even German pigeons were protected from harmful gases?

A picture of a “gas loft” for pigeons I found on the Internet

We also saw pictures of models sporting gas masks while carrying their babies in a gas protecting carrying bag, as an exampled of what people should have been doing at the time. 

Tonight we went to the most wonderful hole-in-the wall Italian restaurant.  There was one counter with four chairs as far as seating, but the menu was large and had a variety of delicious things to offer.  While we were looking at the menu, the man who ran and probably owned the restaurant tried to help us by making animal noises (he really got into character with the pig [schwein] and cow [kuh]) as well as translating a bunch of vegetable names.  Other than that, he didn’t speak much English.  Situations like these bring me back to my early years of education when storybooks used to ask me “which animal says moooooo?” but this time around was way more interactive and fun, probably something to do with the animated, middle-aged, German/Italian man component.  My adventurous side came out when I ordered a mozzarella pizza, which he made right in front of us in what looked like a home kitchen right behind the counter.  The ambiance was complete with brick look-a-like wallpaper, some Italianesque paintings, and one seemingly out of place picture of a unicorn by a waterfall.  While we were eating, the attempts at communication continued. We (kind of) talked about the well being of the euro and how America “has many problems,” which with his hand motions looked like he was implying that America had fireworks coming out of its ear, but I’m sure he was trying to relay something much more profound.  It was really nice that he made such a great effort to talk to us, never got frustrated, and made delicious food with fresh ingredients.  I wish I had taken my camera with me so I could have photographed him in his magnificent rooster sweater.  I will definitely be back.  Saying that reminds me of Yelp reviews, which had mysteriously (and somewhat embarrassingly) grown to be kind of a large influence on my life before I left the US. 

Other than dinner, today has been a pretty slow and rainy day.  I mostly stayed inside my apartment and read, something I’ve been developing a renewed fondness for since I’ve gotten to Germany.  I also tried out some new yogurt I got from the supermarket, which was pretty good.  I still haven’t gotten used to sitting down at a table by myself for meals, so when I eat something in my apartment I usually walk around mindlessly and end up feeding my shirt a little as well.  Win-win for everyone.

A modern-day Berlin pigeon

Part of the Freie Universitat campus

Making my house a home

Home room:

Berlin apartment: 

I still have ways to go before I can achieve my optimum messy comfort level, but I can assure you that it is all in good time. 

(room cleaning contracts don't apply internationally, right?)

The hausmeister who knew too much

Although my parents were the ones who said being in a country in which you don’t know the language is very difficult, and although I didn’t really believe them, they were absolutely right.  From checking out in a grocery store while the little old man that rings me up mumbles happily to himself, to nearly breaking my new phone out of frustration (turns out I was supposed to press “*” for a long time, not press every key while slamming it against my bed), not knowing German in Berlin successfully pushes me out of many loops.  In addition to these two incidences, quite a special one occurred yesterday.  While in my room, feeling bad for myself and deciding if I could be brave enough to take a bus downtown by myself, the landlord (or hausmeister) bursts into my room along with who I later understood to be an electrician.  He immediately started talking to me in fast paced German (not that it would matter if he was talking in slow paced German), and I had absolutely no idea what he was trying to tell me.  I eventually figured out from his exclamation of “kaput!!” and pointing to a socket, that something was terribly wrong with the electricity.  However, during this visit, he also discovered that I had proven myself to be a dreadful bed maker.  It was not a difficult discovery to make.  I was using the blanket cover as a sheet, which was too short for my bed, and not using anything for a blanket cover or pillow cover.  In my defense, none of the bedding had any kind of shape, leading me to believe that they were of use to no one.  The hausmeister sorted out this misconception, and I felt like I was finally making strides in my growing experience. 

Today at the supermarket I bought some mandel spaß, which is a cookie with some kind of nut/jam combination on top.  They happen to be delicious. Today was also the first day we ate at the mensa, or the dining hall for the Freie Universitat, which definitely trumps Brower cuisine in basically every category.  Everything was fresh, there was tons of variety, and my meal came out to be about 5 euros.  After the mensa, I walked around a small but nice park with a friend where we discovered a cute little playground that left some 20 year olds from our program incredibly enthused.  After getting lost in some other part of Berlin (I still don’t know exactly where we were) I was able to get us on the right train and bus to go home, while my friend was a quite lost in the whole directions department.  It made me feel like I wasn’t a completely hopeless traveler, and even though I didn’t know which ausgang to take to get out of the train station and ended up in some kind of bus depot for a while, we eventually made it back home to Celsiusstraße and bought a variety of foods from the supermarket in hopes of producing some semblance of a meal.

All in all, parents sister boyfriend weren’t completely lying when they repeatedly told me things would get better, for now I have some mandel spaß and a persimmon, in addition to now knowing that you should not continually try to use a strange public restroom if it doesn’t seem to be working, because two angry men might walk out together and curse you out in German… good think it sounded like gobbledygook to me.

He's excited, really.