i said i would write something nice. i feel nice. i feel fine.
i think about the day i arrived here, two weeks ago, in the scope of actual time, but some eternity ago in memory and feeling. when i summon that moment, i realize how far i've come, how much better i feel. i feel at home. i feel at home on my tiny single bed with its coarse burgundy blanket. i feel at home on frankfurter allee and its collection of spätkaufe und kneipen*. i feel at home since i've finally learned how to use my keys- a little click to the right before turning left at the front door and three times to the right then a pull on the handle at the apartment door. everything has its tiny nuance, its particular way of being. i feel at home because i've let myself be at home, instead of longing for something other than what is here. sometimes i want some salty tortilla chips or water with ice in it or most often a hug that comes with love rather than familiarity, but i am learning to relish the things i find here that i won't necessarily have when i get home. incredible apotheken* and sausages on the street from people wearing umbrella hats and kisses on the hand from spanish men, who call you bella.
i realize more and more every day that each city, each country, and each person too has its own attributes and faults. berlin is incredibly clean, but no one picks up after their dogs. people are efficient and punctual and varied, but perhaps not as overtly friendly as in san francisco. food and housing are cheap, but things are expensive. i am trying then to enjoy the beautiful things berlin offers, without begrudging it the things it does not. i am finding the most precious parts and savoring them. like being at the flea market and being overwhelmed by all the stimulation there, i am sifting through berlin to find the things i like best.
i like berlin's coffee. i like its often cobblestone streets. i like its latticed walls and its endless parks and its unsettled weather. i like its freedom. i like its collection of people, of languages, of nationalities, of histories. i like its honesty and its art. i likes its babies (i like everywhere's babies). i likes its willingness to let you stay, to relax, to be outside. i like its riverside bars and late night tango dancing on the sand, where the music is so quiet and gritty with age you can hear people's feet scuffle. i like its distance from time, despite being so punctual. i like its trains and its language. i like its abundant colored lights that blink their heavy eyes at you in the early morning hours. i like its museums. i like its genau* that people utter often, with the same quick, soothing drop in pitch at the end. i like its chaos, its liveliness. i like its many things, its more things than i could name.
i have been quite busy, occupied. i do more in one day here than i would do in a week in san francisco. yesterday some classmates and i had a very un-german dinner at a japanese restaurant. this time four spaniards, a chilean, an oklahoman, and a cupcake. we ate sushi, while speaking in some senseless collection of german and english and spanish. we drank too many bottles of sake and laughed maybe too loudly for the quaint restaurant. we walked later to a bar on the river and drank more in seats that were more like cradles, begging you to sleep, than chairs. by 1 am, i'd missed my last train, so i walked home an hour in the rain. instead of a playlist, for once i chose a whole album. i walked home listening to the music that felt so precious and appropriate at the time, i almost don't want to name it. i felt strong and happy, even when my shoe fell apart and just started flapping-soggy and unstrung against my ankle. i came to the house and clicked right, then turned left to come into my home. i am home.
every minute is new, every minute is familiar, as life tends to be. i feel very neutral this moment. calm. it is perhaps the strangest feeling i ever have. i am reveling every minute in myself and my surroundings, the fluidity between them and the barriers. i am going. i feel fine. i feel nice. i feel something nice.
wortschatz
spätkauf- mini mart (literally "late buy")
kneipe- pub, specifically a seedy bar
apotheke- pharmacies, ie shops where they sell amazing, inexpensive skin-care products
genau- exactly, said in response to an it-goes-like-this? question
