Men's Day 2015 Part 1

In Germany, Father's Day is celebrated by all men. It's actually called "Männertag" (Men's Day) and falls on Ascension Day; the day that, according to Roman Catholiciscm, Jesus ascended to Heaven after His resurrection. Fun fact for those of you who are wondering: this tradition dates back to the eighteenth century when prizes were awarded to fathers after Ascension Day parades in rural areas.

Men who are fathers generally spend the day with their families. Men who are not fathers use it as an excuse to go day drinking and get wasted, then continue drinking into the night whereupon they are shitfaced around 5 am.  It's a national holiday and always falls on a Thursday, so naturally everyone takes Friday off as well and the streets can be fairly chaotic.

This year, Mario would be spending the day with his friend Olli. I am good friends with his girlfriend, Jenny, so she and I decided to have our own girls' day. We ate breakfast together around 11 am, and then the boys left to celebrate "being a man." Meaning having their first drink around 11:30, and many more thereafter.

She suggested that we go to a couple art galleries. A quick check online and we were on our way to Alexanderplatz. In the Ubahnhof we saw our first sign of Männertag: a group of 5 or 6 guys dressed like Superman. They had rigged up a little kid's wagon as a portable bar, decorated with Superman's red and blue colors and logo, and had speakers playing the Superman movie theme. It was pretty elaborate and also funny as hell. They kept doing the Superman pose as if they were flying, one fist in the air.

The gallery turned out to be closed, so we poked around at a Flohmarkt (a flea market) and headed to Museum Island, a clustering of diverse museums here in Berlin. You can buy tickets for each individual museum or, if you are a tourist and want to get your money's worth, you can buy a master ticket and spend the whole freaking day wandering around looking at old stuff.

On the way there we stopped to drink a beer. I had my wine and sipped it a bit while sitting on a park bench and pretending to be asozial, one of those day-drinking rednecks who hang out in front of Spätis (corner stores, very popular here in Berlin). We were right on a major tourist pathway between sights so I got a lot of funny looks. Mission accomplished.

We headed to the Pergamon Museum, which is cool because it has several huge displays including the Ishtar Gate from Babylon, which is a towering beautiful blue tribute to one of the greatest cities of the ancient world; the Market Gate of Miletus, which is a dominating two-story high, 30m wide monument; and the Mshatta Facade, an intricate palacial facade of an ancient desert castle in Jordan.

http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/f/f6/Pergamonmuseum_Ishtartor_05.jpg

Mario was writing us periodically with updates so that we [aka Jenny] wouldn't worry. She kept saying things like "I wonder what the boys are doing now," and "I wonder what the boys are doing now." It seemed like they were just hanging out at our apartment drinking and Olli was singing and playing the guitar. He's quite good at it for someone who is self-taught, and it's his biggest passion. We sent them a few pictures too.

Men's Day Fun - Olli (L) and Mario

Sophistication and Culture - Girls' Day at the museum

I am someone who can appreciate museums, but I do have my saturation point. I have to see the coolest stuff first because once I reach that point, I am just wandering around staring at more old stuff instead of appreciating it for how cool it is. I also have persistent lower back pain, compounded by too much time on my feet, so by the time we left the museum my back had fused into one grinding ache.

We went to Dolores, a California-Mexican restaurant. I had no idea that Dolores referred to the Dolores in San Francisco. The walls were plastered with blown-up street maps of the Dolores Park and Mission neighborhoods of the city. I stared at the maps, reliving my memories in that glorious city. The walking tour with my brother that we had to cut short because the poor guy's foot was fractured and he couldn't stand to walk anymore; the day in the park with my cousin, when a guy randomly brought out DJ equipment and was spinning tunes while strangers gathered around and had a mini-dance party, sharing weed and throwing beach balls around; the towering hills rising out of nowhere, making you feel like you were on top of the whole world as you stared down at the entire city... I was nostalgic but Jenny was unimpressed, so instead of blabbing on about SF I just stuffed my face with my vegan burrito bowl, feeling like a cow as twig-sized Jenny picked at her salad.

With our early dinners down the hatch, we headed to a nearby art gallery Jenny had seen online. She's an aspiring photographer and loves going to those things. It was.. Interesting. Very tiny, with only 12 or 13 exhibits crammed into a single small room filled with people. One of the pieces of "art" looked like someone had dug up metal chain link fence posts, painted them pink, and badly taped pieces of paper with Sinhalese writing on them. No joke. The concrete was still on the bottom of the posts. We moved around the room and Jenny gave me her artistic opinion on the art, which ranged from a picture of a man holding a mirror and looking at himself to abstract colors on canvas. There was also a painting of skeletons walking to a funeral, most of whom looked old and somber in pinstriped suits and bowling hats. They had normal bodies and hands, just skull heads. One was even in a wheelchair. And then towards the end there was this sassy voluptuous blond skeleton in a super short skirt and huge boobs, carrying a skull under her arm. Unfortunately there were no explanations of the art, so Jenny and I amused ourselves trying to explain what the heck was happening in this picture. My theory was that the bombshell skeleton was the mistress of the rich old skeleton who died and that's why she was prancing her way to the funeral. But who knows, really?

The room quickly filled up to the point that there was no more room, and we had already done our tour, so we squeezed past the artsy hipsters who were chatting with people like they knew everyone already. They probably did. There was a small camera crew outside interviewing the artists and we stopped to listen for a few minutes, but Jenny could see that I was itching to sit down so we headed back to her apartment for tequila sunrises and girl talk.


Stay tuned for Part 2! It involves a weekend stay in a hospital, 8 stitches, and ruined bloody clothes!

Pizza or Volcano

I mostly do all of the meal planning around here. And by "mostly" I mean that my boyfriend will occasionally buy a frozen pizza for lunch on days when I don't feel like cooking.  It's not his fault -- I am vegetarian, he's not. He can cook the heck out of schnitzel or a roast, I'm sure -- but when it comes to legumes and tofu and veggies he's 99% clueless.

Today he asked me to write a shopping list for tomorrow's meals. I spent 15 minutes looking around online for something and finally decided, "Pizza." I just didn't feel like dealing with finding something new, and I am burned out on pasta and Asian.

My boyfriend hesitated. I could see the wheels working in his head... "Pizza.. But I ate that last week.. And making it at home isn't great... Mehhhh..." Then he remembers my psychic powers, and that I know he's not crazy about pizza tonight. He also remembers that my last Pill was two days ago and my hormones are going crazy, stirring like fiery pools of magma under the Earth's surface, just waiting for a tiny fissure in the crust to appear so they can rage out, covering everything in a 100-mile radius with white-hot fury.

"OK, pizza is fine!"

Good man. 

10 Phases of Watching German TV as an Expat

Moving to another country is a complicated process, and watching TV is an excellent way to have insight into the culture and improve your understanding of the language. Plus, true to Germany's "tax everything possible" policy, everyone has to pay a TV tax regardless of whether or not they have a TV, so you might as well use it, right?

I started learning German pretty intensively right around the time when I started dating my boyfriend, who can't speak much English. Due to external circumstances, we moved in together pretty quickly, and my German was still in its infantile stages. It was also the first time that I had access to a TV since coming to Germany. Alone at home while my boyfriend worked, I ended up watching several hours of TV each day. Note: I was also working out, cleaning the apartment, and getting outside when the weather was nice. No judging! While it was incredibly tedious at first, it played a HUGE role in improving my German very quickly.

For fun, here are the 10 basic phases of watching German TV:

1. You just stare at the TV, unable to pick out more than just a few words. At this point you're watching to get used to the sound of the language and not for comprehension. You are also still watching movies and TV shows in your native language, possibly with subtitles in German if you're being ambitious.
2. You've studied a bit and learned some more vocabulary. Most of what you hear is still gibberish, but sometimes you can understand an entire sentence! A small victory indeed, but you pat yourself on the back anyway. At this point you'll take anything you can get.
3. You're slowly increasing your vocabulary so you know what these crazy-looking subtitles mean. And you are realizing that German grammar has almost nothing to do with English, forcing you into a little black box of "I can't do this!" despondency. You finally realize you really can't do this on your own. Forget your hopes of magically learning German -- it's going to take some serious studying.
4. Take a break from the TV (it's not like you understand the shows anyway) and spend some time with actual books to learn this impossible language. You're pleased to realize that those viewing hours from step 1 - 3 were not wasted -- you have a slightly better understanding of the spoken language than you thought. You're still struggling to keep your head above water at this point.
5. OK! Break over. You've got the basic grammar down and you've memorized an impressive list of the most common vocabulary. Time to turn on the TV again.
6. You're watching your favorite TV shows and movies in German, with subtitles of course. And I mean movies that you have seen a million times and can almost recite by heart. A pocket dictionary is by your side at all times. You spend more time staring at the subtitles than watching what's happening with the actors. Frustratingly, sometimes the captions don't match up with what they say.
   Unforseen side effect:
   TV is no longer the relaxing, brain-numbing pastime it once was. You have to work to watch. A 20 minute sitcom leaves you feeling like you've been teaching yourself calculus -- which you have been, in a way.
7. You're slowly memorizing the German text from watching the same shows over and over. You don't rely on the subtitles anymore and can actually watch the action on screen now, jumping back to subtitles quickly for a bit of help.
   Unforseen side effect:
   You are really, really thrown off by the mismatch between the actors' lips forming words in English and hearing the German voice over. You never before realized how much you relied on mouth movements to understand what someone is saying. You have to train yourself to stare at their eyes. Also, while they usually find a German actor with a similar voice, sometimes you are totally thrown off by the voiceover. This happens way more often with cartoons, for some reason.
8. Fast forward in time. You've been studying since Step 4 and now it's time to leave your safe TV/movie reruns (thank goodness, you were getting so sick of them!) and venture into real German TV. You quickly realize that the news, and documentaries, are your new best friend. They speak Hochdeutsch (proper "high" German) and clearly. No confusing slang, mumbling, or accents. Also, while closed captioning is required for handicapped persons, the actual amount of captioned shows varies. And when the show actually does have captions, you realize that, like your favorite newly-hated TV shows, the captions often don't match up.
   Obvious side effect:
   You quickly become an expert on current world events and WW2 documentaries (which .is apparently all that Germany has, unless you stay up late and watch UFO conspiracy docs, imported from the US). Great for trivia nights!
   Unforseen side effect:
   See that cultural differences really do exist, especially towards nudity. Naked voluptuous women showering? No problem! Show it on the "Good Morning Germany"-type show when families are breakfasting together. "But it's just a human body," they say. "Kids see their parents and each other naked all the time," they say. Yeah, maybe -- but it doesn't stop my boyfriend from yelling "TITTEN!" whenever boobs flash on the screen.
9. Graduate to normal TV shows, but keep your training wheels, aka subtitles. You are getting better at understanding conversational German and learning all kinds of interesting expressions (and swear words, because they don't carry the same weight as they do in English and are used relatively frequently in normal conversation). You're also getting pretty jaded from seeing butts and boobs on screen.
   Unforseen side effects:
   Realize how many TV shows America exports, and how great they are compared to German TV. Become actually appalled at the quality of most German TV shows, with either a) are not funny; b) are just plain annoying; c) have terrible effects, acting, and plot lines; d) are a pitiful shadow of American TV shows.
10. Several months after your TV journey started, you graduate to the last and final step: watching whatever you want without subtitles (but let's not lie, most shows didn't have them anyway). No, you don't understand 100% -- but the balance is more like 90% for news shows, and 75% for normal TV. What you don't get is easily figured out by context clues on the screen. And there's always the "Ask a buddy" option if you're watching with a native speaker...unless it's "Who Wants to be a Millionaire," in which case you need to just give up now because you're never gonna understand that show. Congratulations! You've persevered and now have a wonderful/shocking/shameful window into German culture whenever you want.
    Unforseen side effects:
    Become so annoyed by Germany's sitcoms, dramas, reality TV, and soap operas (other than GZSZ, which is the only soap opera I'd ever watch because it RULES) that you give up on watching them altogether, which is ironic because you started this whole process so that you could watch them in the first place. Luckily, they are pretty good at showing good, relatively new (American) movies every night at 8:15, directly after GZSZ -- so there's your evening TV program. 

Christmas

Christmas in Germany is pretty much the same thing as in America. Lots of family time, presents, lots of food. There's only one main thing that stands out: they give presents on Christmas Eve rather than Christmas Day. I personally don't care much one way or the other, but it seems like the German way creates a lot more problems -- it's easy enough to convince kids that Santa came during the night while they were sleeping, but how do you convince them he stopped by on Christmas Eve afternoon?

I spent pretty much a huge chunk of the Christmas week with Mario's family. Christmas Eve - afternoon cake and coffee with his parents and brother, followed by dinner, presents, and more cake.  I was expecting to get a couple of things but not a lot, since we don't see Mario's parents very often and when we do see them, I am mostly just the quiet shadow in the background, too shy to say much in my bumbling German. Not this year -- I had just as many boxes under the tree with my name as the boys, which was quite a pleasant surprise. I've gotten less for Christmas from previous boyfriends' families whom I'd known longer (and actually had conversations with).

Among the spoils were: way over 100eur in gift cards for H&M and IKEA; two months' worth of toiletries and perfume; a 1000 page book (in ENGLISH!) that I devoured in a week; a key holder to hang by the door; and a bag of Christmas chocolate that dwarfs what any kid could hope to bring home for Halloween.

Mario and I were invited back over the next day (25th) for cake and coffee for his grandma Sonja. She's a sweet lady but has Alzheimer's and forgot where the bathroom was 7 times. She also signed Mario's Christmas card twice.

On the 26th we headed back again to his parents' apartment. This time we had dinner and exchanged presents with the extended family -- mom, dad, brother, aunt, uncle, 2 cousins, and an 8 year old nephew. They were all chatting away excitedly in Berliner but from what I could tell, the favorite topic was life in East Germany under the DDR.

They had lots of stories about how the children were left alone at night while the parents went out. The kids were scared, the parents came home to find every single light on in the house, etc.

I finally asked, "Don't you have babysitters here in Germany?" Turns out that under the DDR government, they were all too poor to afford babysitters. Everyone was in the same boat and helped each other out when they could. Instead of paying a babysitter they just put the kids to bed and gave the neighbors a key to the apartment. The neighbors could hear through the walls when the kids cried and would go over to comfort them.

Mario's parents were coming home from one such night out. Their route took them along the wall, which of course was still intact and heavily guarded. The Stasi were extremely heavy-handed about anti-DDR propaganda and it was normal for people to be taken in for questioning and just disappear. Fun fact: their former headquarters are just a block away from our apartment! Makes for a very cozy feel in the neighborhood.
Mario's dad decided just as they were walking along a checkpoint that it was a good time for him to start loudly voicing his [extremely negative and honest] opinions about the soldiers standing guard and the DDR. His wife had to clamp her hands over his mouth and drag him away, fearing that the father of her children would also disappear.
At first glance this story doesn't seem all that crazy. But when you really think about it -- can you imagine going up to a policeman and saying "Hey, you're a dick," and then he beats you and throws you into jail where you rot for the rest of your life -- if you're lucky? And to think it was happening until the late 80s in a country that is as modern as Germany!

After dinner they continued telling stories and we drank the night away until midnight or so, then said goodbye and piled into our cars (with DD's, of course. Germans are very strict about having a designated driver).

So, that was my Christmas. Warm and fuzzy and filled with family, just like in America. Except for the Stasi stories.

"I just farted"

Originally this was supposed to be a quick post about a silly situation. I mean, when are farts not amusingly silly? But fart-related situations keep happening and it would be a shame to let them fade away into oblivion instead of sharing them with the world in all their glory... I'll keep updating this as they happen. If only for my own personal amusement.

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I was really sick for a week and a half. Not flu-like, thank goodness. No achy pains, no fevers, excessive snot -- just a persistent cough. Cough didn't really describe it. It was like smoking-for-60-years-and-I'm-trying-to-cough-up-my-lungs coughing.

It got worse at night, so Mario and I were sleeping in different rooms. Whoever went to sleep first got to the bedroom, and the other watched tv and slept on a temporary mattress in the living room.

On this particular occasion, Mario was in the living room. I walked in the next morning to say hello and get some morning cuddle time, which I'd been missing for the past 10 days.

"Good morning, baby!" I said.

"I just farted," he responded.

What a nice way to start the day.

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Him: I just farted
Me: You did?
Him: You didn't hear "pfffftttttttttt"?
Me: No. I didn't hear anything
Him: Oh, ok, then I didn't just fart

Smooth.

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Stupid things I've said in German

I've been here for a year but didn't actually start to speak German until about 5 months ago, when I met my boyfriend. He barely speaks English and since I'm not planning on leaving the country anytime soon, it was more practical for me to start learning German instead of forcing him to learn English. Easier said than done...

I asked today if I have an accent with everything I say, or if I actually sound German sometimes. Mario didn't even need a second to consider his answer. "You have an accent all the time. Except when you say 'nichts.'"

What the hell. "Nichts," German for "nothing," is actually a pretty hard word to say. You've got that soft ch sound, followed by the hard t, followed by the soft s. What about the easy stuff, like ja or nein? Is it even possible to say those words any other way than the German way?

I don't believe it. I'm going to ask "Did I have an accent?" after every single sentence I utter tonight.  Just to be sure. There has to be some other word I can say correctly. Has to be.

At least my accent can be understood, and maybe even charming to some. But what's really funny -- and sometimes embarrassing -- is when I screw up the words entirely.

Here are the translations of the stupid things I've said (offending words in red), along with what I should have said (in green).

When asked if I want more to eat at dinner:
No thanks, I don't want any more. My tree is full.
tree = Baum
stomach = Bauch 

When looking for my toothbrush:
Where is my toothbreast?
breast = Bruste
toothbrush = Zahnbürste

When talking about someone with acne on his scalp:
He has to pee in his hair.
to pee = pinkeln
pimple = Pickel

When asked about what I'm giving my boyfriend for his birthday:
I don't know yet.. I must buy him a poison.
poison = Gift
gift = Geschenk

When buying paper for rolling cigarettes:
Can I have the blue documents?
documents = Papiere
cigarette paper = Paper
I did this one for months and never understood why I got such strange looks until my boyfriend was kind enough to explain to me that I was actually asking for something like immigration papers, not rolling papers

Talking about breakfast, and not realizing that a slang term for testicles is "eggs":
Yeah, I love balls. I could eat balls every single day. They are so tasty and you can do so much with them.
balls = Eier
eggs = Eier
So, in my defense -- that one was actually correct vocabulary, but my boyfriend's brain is in the gutter. He got a big kick out of that one.

Yeahhh, don't bring me home to meet the family just yet.. Or, at the very least, keep me away from Grandma until I can get my sexual slang under control.  I'm sure the list will grow more in the future.. Stay tuned.

Pinkie Promises and Penis Fights

I don’t know how it happens, but my friends always attract the most colorful characters in Berlin.  There was that one old Italian guy who, while my boyfriend and I were waiting for the Ubahn, wanted to come over to chat with us. My boyfriend gave him an “Eat shit and die” look before the guy could get within speaking distance, and the man wisely took the hint and started talking to a trash can instead about how unfriendly we are.

Then there was that middle-aged couple who bought just two cigarettes from us. They were drunk and on their way to a concert at 7:30am (just as we were coming back from a club). The music they were going to hear? Indian-influenced techno, at a ridiculous 170 beats per minute. They invited us to come, but we politely declined. For your reference, here's a 160bpm track. I can only imagine what Indian-flavored techno at 170 bpm would sound like...

Oh, and then there was that drunk person who tripped UP the stairs at the Frankfurter Tor Ubahn station, recovered slightly, and then strolled away. Pretty normal, actually… Until we noticed he had a huge unopened can of soup in his hoodie pocket. Literally, the can could have fed four people. It was a Costco, Sams Club sized can of soup. The strangest part is that it was very early on a Sunday morning, and it is pretty much impossible to go to a grocery store so early on a Sunday, meaning he must have been carrying around with him for who knows how long.

BUT -- the more I think about it, the more that it makes sense. Birds of a feather flock together, and as the German saying goes, my boyfriend and his friends haben ein Vogel -- literally, have a bird. Figuratively, they are a bit off their rocker.  Combine that with very friendly and talkative personalites -- especially when combined with copious amounts of beer and Havana rum -- and actually I am not surprised at all that we stumble into hilariously strange situations.

Take this past weekend for example. Sergio’s birthday night, Saturday. It was a boy’s night, and my boyfriend and his BBF (Best Bro Friend) Olli were in attendance at the party. No worries -- rocker chick Jenny (Olli’s girlfriend) and I had a girls’ night and met the extremely drunk boys much later at a club.

Around 11 pm we got a Whatsapp picture from my boyfriend, Mario. He and Olli were holding their shirts up and pushing their crotches together. It looked almost like they were comparing belt buckles. The text read “Pinkie Promise!” Earlier I'd taught him what a pinkie promise is, and he pinkie promised me that “Tonight I will be really really drunk.”

Jenny stared at the picture, then at me. I explained to her the pinkie promise thing, and we wrote back “Congratulations.”

We didn’t think any more about it until we were heading home around 7:30 that morning. The sun was just starting to come up and Jenny and I were the only sober ones.

We were standing on a street corner near the Eberswalder stop on Schoenhauser Allee. If you’re not familiar with it, it’s a fairly busy intersection. This morning the traffic was more of the drunken  pedestrian sort and less of the auto sort, but it was busy nonetheless.

Suddenly, Mario stopped and yelled “PINKIE PROMISE!” Olli’s face lit up and both boys started undoing their flys, leaving their belts and top buttons alone. Jenny and I looked at each other, thinking “Oh God, what are they doing now?”

The boys shoved their hands inside their jeans, struggling around, and finally poked their little fingers out of their unzipped pants. It really looked like baby penises wagging around. “PINKIE PROMISE!!” they both yelled, then pushed their hips together and started playing a weird game of fencing with their digits. Suddenly the picture we’d received earlier made a lot more sense.

A drunk guy walking by saw the fencing match and wanted in on it, too. “Hey, ja!” he said, unzipping his pants. Except he also undid his belt and the top button.  When we realized what was happening, it was too late. We all screamed “NOOOOOOOO!!” It was like everything was happening in slow motion -- you want to stop it, but you can’t. He was barreling ahead like a locomotive, unstoppable in his drunken stupor.

“PINKIE PROMISE!” he yelled, whipping out his penis and ready to join in on the fun.

I was hysterical, laughing so hard I was about to cry. Jenny was screaming about how disgusting it looked. And the boys were all yelling “Dude!! It’s just our fingers!!”

He stood there for a few seconds, then put the pieces together. “Oh…” He shoved the penis back into his pants. “You could have told me sooner that it was just your fingers, you assholes,” he mumbled, complete embarrassment breaking through the alcohol haze. But it was all good. We had a good laugh together, Olli gave him a high-five (Jenny sighed and told me, “Now I have to burn his hands. That penis was disgusting looking.”) and he took a group photo of us.

Indeed, upon retrospection.. It’s not a surprise at all that we attract such characters. What would you expect when having a “penis fight” at 7:30am on a weekend near Kulturbrauerei?

Let’s see what fun the next weekend brings..

Karnaval der Kulturen!

Last weekend Berlin had a huge street party called the Karnaval der Kulturen (Carnival of Cultures..see, German isn't always SO hard).

While the Karnaval lasted all weekend, I heard that Sunday was the best day because of the parade finale. An ex coworker and a current coworker met up to see the event. Words can't express how much I love these two.. They are my favorite people in Berlin. We had so many late Friday nights drinking at the office until 2 am, talking about life and work and everything in between. They both have very different views, but we made a perfect mix. The Three Musketeers, Berlin melting-pot style.  So naturally it was an amazing afternoon.

We started with coffee around 1pm. Then the girlfrend of Jamin, my ex-coworker, joined. She is so chill and laid back and made the perfect addition to our trio. As a happy foursome we left our quiet side street cafe and headed toward the parade. We arrived in time to see the last few floats and found ourselves stuck next to a Brazilian float absolutely blasting samba music, drowning out the poor Southeast Asian group behind it. They had about 8 Berghain-sized speakers on the float, and the little Asian flutes the musicians were playing had no chance. I have a suspicion that it was a sneaky techinque to undermine the competition, since there was a contest for the best float. Who wouldn't win with huge speakers, samba music, and nearly naked dancers parading around in feathers and sequins?

dressed appropriately for the weather

Along the way we stopped to sample (several) capirinhas and daiquiris. It was 95 degrees outside, and there were so many people crowding the streets, blocking any wind. I was practically forced to buy the overpriced delicious cups of ice-filled coldness, I promise.

Bombarded by samba music, we made our way to Jamin and Lil's friends' restaurant -- a tiny foccacia place, more like fast food than a classic Italian restaurant. In the spirit of the party weekend, they had huge speakers and a DJ set up just outside the restaurant. A dull orange carpet covered the entire sidewalk and a hand written sign on cardboard declared the area as a "Dance Floor." Berliners bobbed around in the sun, floating between their tables filled with delicious focaccia/beer and the Dance Floor carpet. A guy randomly wandered over with a hammock, strung it up between two skinny sidewalk trees, and fell asleep listening to the house music. Seriously, I freaking love this city. You can't make this shit up.

After eating and drinking the rest of the caipirinhas, we headed to a spaeti to buy some beer and then went to Viktoriapark across from the foccacia place. It's gorgeous. I was there the weekend before with my friend from Hamburg. The park rises above the street on one of Berlin's only hills, imposing and yet insanely beautiful thanks to the man-made creek and waterfalls that pour down its slopes, topped by a gothic tower. Everytime I see it, I feel like I could be in a Disney movie. Seriously.

goodhardworkingpeople.blogspot.com

We hiked to the top and sat in the grass, enjoying the breeze and talking about the company we work[ed] for. The conversation changed to families and babies, as we were surrounded by them. I guess the festival was a bit too much for the kiddies, and parents preferred a quiet park to the insane streets. Around 6 the lovebirds had to leave. Barbie was long gone, but I wasn't ready to go home just yet. If you've read my other posts, you know that I have no problem with floating around solo. I'm a firm believer that you are your own best friend, and I absolutely hold Charles Bukowski quotes close to my heart (in this particular case, "I had always been good company for myself.") I jumped on the Ubahn and headed back to Mehringdamm, then wandered around the street festival. My plan was to check out the scene solo, hang around until I got bored, then go back to my apt for dinner.

People had set up huge speakers here and there with mini dance parties sprouting around them. I stopped for another caipirinha and found a promising mini party. House music streamed from the big speakers, and a decent crowd of about 100 people bobbed in time to the music under the late afternoon summer sun.

SF or Berlin? You be the judge. Only the buildings might give it away

A party was underway in the 5th floor apartment above the sidewalk and they were filling buckets with water and pouring them on the crowd. The people loved it and screamed for more, dancing soaking wet and not giving a care in the world. I really felt like I was back in San Francisco, albeit a less-costumed version.. But SF vibes were there nonetheless.

A few guys gave me the German "come hither" stare but I was feeling Meh. A few were promising looking, especially the guy in front of me. Small gauges in his ears, aviators, a wifebeater and tight shorts rolled up to the knees. Blond, fit. Typical chill Berlin guy. I checked my watch -- 8pm. I wanted to have a nice relaxing quiet night, so I told myself "5 more minutes, then you'll go." And then one of the guys who had given me the stare did something amazing - he Prosted me. And then, the adventure started.

Coming soon: Part 2

The park that never ends - Tempelhofer Feld

This weekend my friend Jan was visiting from Hamburg. Because the weather had finally taken a turn for the better, we ventured out to a new part of the city for me: Tempelhofer Feld.

bz-berlin

As I mentioned before, Berlin is 44% park. After going to Tempelhof, I can see where 43% of that green space comes from. If you've flown into Berlin before 2008, you might have a different view of Tempelhof -- the view from inside the terminal. Yes, that's right -- the park is an AIRPORT.

It officially opened its doors in 1923, and was named Tempelhof after the Knights Templar who made it their stomping grounds waaaay back in the day. It was busiest from 1938-1939. Not surprising.

wikipedia

pressechronik

Tempelhof was closed in 2008 in an attempt to centralize air traffic in Berlin and make Schönefeld the main airport. At the time, there were 3 airports in opposite corners of the city -- not good for noise pollution, and probably making air traffic controlling a nightmare.

The airport remained unused except for the occasional tradeshow or fair, which were held inside the hangar.  The rest of the time, the huge space was left untouched. So, instead of expensive development projects, in 2010 Berlin decided "What the hell, let's just make it a park."  In true lazy Berlin fashion, everything was left exactly the same -- they took down the barbed wire on the fence around the airport and put up a sign saying that it's a park, and that's about it.  The airport itself remains, and the hangar continues to be used for trade shows and raves. There was actually a rave that day, and the thumping bass of the techno rolled over the park from the hangar.  Nevermind that it was 4pm -- when Berlin parties, it's a weekend-long affair, sunlight be damned.

bz-berlin

In addition to the ravers in the cavernous hangar, day-living Berliners were rollerblading, kiteboarding, and biking on the runways and picnicking on the grass. Tons of people lugged little portable grills out with them and were roasting various kinds of meat and sausages à la Germany.

pollimagazin

tempelhoferfeld.info

There are some important lessons I learned about visiting Templehof, which I will share with you in case you ever get the chance to visit it in the hopes that you will learn from my mistakes:

• We were meeting a group of Jan's coworkers who also happened to be in Berlin this weekend. They arrived before us, and we mistakenly thought we could just give them a call and meet up. No way, Jose. We forgot to take into account one very important factor: the park is a freaking airport. After walking all over Berlin earlier that day, we were looking forward to sitting down and resting our tired feet. We arrived at the park..and had to walk almost the entire length of the thing just to get inside the nearest entrance. And THEN, once inside we were confronted with the massive airfield. We wandered around for a while, moving from one picnicking group to another and finally realized that we could do this all day and never find them. Using Whatsapp, his friends showed us their location in the field. And we realized that they were clear on the other side of the park, a good 40 mn walk away. I actually stopped to sit and eat an apple for some quick energy. According to runningmap.com, we walked 2.36 miles -- just to get to where his friends were. Lesson learned: plan where to meet and enter the park through the closest gate.

Our journey to find Jan's friends

• The weather was super nice and sunny, so we dressed accordingly -- short sleeves, etc. Years of living in San Francisco taught me to be prepared for everything, since going from one neighborhood to the next block often meant a drop of 10+ degrees and a wall of fog. I quickly learned to always bring a light jacket with me. Inside Berlin the buildings block most of the wind, but the huge expanse of Templehof is devoid of buildings. Chilly winds constantly swept across the field (probably why it's so popular with kite skaters) and I was constantly pulling on my jacket and taking it off -- even sometimes wishing I had brought a heavier one with me. Lesson learned: wear layers, regardless of how warm it is in your neighborhood.
• The bathrooms are real bathrooms - full plumbing, stocked with paper, and even a cleaning lady. It's a nice change from the bushes that most European parks provide. HOWEVER.. I may have mentioned earlier that the park is huge. This therefore means that bathrooms are about a mile away from each other. How do you find one? Look for where lots of people are camped out with their little portable bbqs, and then hike for half an hour. Lesson learned: park your picnic close to the bathroom, or go when you see one -- you never know when the next one will come around.
• One of Jan's friends brought his dog along. The dog was some kind of hound mix, big but so chill -- off leash he just sniffed around and hung out. And then he got the idea of exploring on his own while the owner was chatting away. No harm done, just some wandering and sniffing. But all of a sudden we heard a yell and a whistle, and two park officials came over wearing bright orange windbreakers. I didn't get everything but it was obvious that the dog was not welcome and should be kept near us at all times. "Clean up all this when you leave, too," they added for good measure, indicating our picnic supplies and beer bottles. Then they stalked off to rain on someone else's parade. Lesson learned: keep your dog nearby, no matter how well behaved. Or else you'll be given a stern scolding from the Park Patrol.

tempelhoferfeld.info

All in all it's a really unique place -- where else can you rave inside an airplane hangar and rollerblade on a tarmac on the same day? The huge, flat expanse of the park ensures that there is more than enough space for everyone, but is not for the mobility-impaired. Unless you are sticking to the tarmac, in which case you are golden. Just be sure to come prepared and park yourself in the right place, with an eye out for the Park Police.

Ähmmmm like everyone knows Seeed

Today was a holiday in Germany. Not in the US, unfortunately, so while Germans everywhere were enjoying their rather inconveniently placed Thursday holiday, I was at the office. As I maaaay have mentioned once or twice, I love my team, so it was less like work and more like hanging out with friends.

Around midnight I got a message from Dingens, who had been enjoying the holiday festivities all evening. Here is an excerpt. Please read all of his comments in italics in a very disdainful, incredulous tone (as in, "Do you know who Johnny Depp* is?" "No, who is he?" "O.M.G. you don't know? He's only like the most famous actor in all of the world. I can't believe you don't know him. Everyone knows him. Have you, like, been living under a rock or something?!?") *Johnny Depp is only the first name I came up with..but you have to agree, pretty much everyone in the world knows who he is

Hey wie ist die Arbeit

we are getting ready to leave soon

wie geht es bei dir

you still worked like long.I'm heading home. it was very good

good!! where did you go

we eat a Döner at the janowitzbrücke it's a thing we used to do and then we went to the east side gallery and met some other friends

sounds so nice!

yeah it was. they are still there

btw do you know Seeed

?? no

no??

most famous band in Berlin. Google them

nope i don't know them

that's ridiculous

what are some good songs

ähhhhmmmmm like everyone

of course

look at you tube.it gonna show you the best ones. It's German though

do you like them?

yeah I do

in Berlin everyone knows them. It's nearly impossible to get tickets for their concerts

why are you asking me about it

I was just listening to them in my way home

and I was wondering if you know them because everyone who lives in Berlin should know them

My favorite part is "ähhhhmmmmm like everyone". I think I'm going to add "Ähhhhmmmmm" to my vocabulary. The umlauts (dots above the a) are very expressive. Like two disapproving eyes staring at you for being so ignorant. And just in case you didn't get that you are obviously not in the know, he follows with not one, not two, but three staring faces. The cold German Stare somehow echoes in their pixellated eyeballs, freezing the soul:

  

       

              

*shivers*

If you think that's bad, try being on the Ubahn. Buuuut back to topic..Seeed. Wiki says:

Seeed is a German reggae/dancehall band from Berlin. Founded in 1998, they have become well-known in Germany and its neighboring countries. Seeed and Cologne's singjay Gentleman are among Germany's most popular reggae musicians.
Seeed consists of eleven band members, including three singers, a horn section and a DJ. Seeed is recognized for their unusual use of horns. They have worked with Cee-Lo Green, Anthony B, Tanya Stephens, General Degree as well as other Jamaican artists and producers. Almost all of their music releases feature a popular guest experience.

Anyway, so the rest of you won't have to share in the shame of my ignorance, here are some of Seeed's songs. It is a sound that comes from Berlin, more upbeat and electronic than reggae to echo the vibrant electro scene here. Like many American rappers, the lyrics often refer to their hometown of Berlin and the music videos feature the city as well. Watch and enjoy the sights and sounds of my new home, because ähhhhmmmmm like everyone knows Seeed.