The blisters that developed in my new Sperry’s created a larger problem than I first imagined. I went to Kaiser’s grocery expecting to find band aids. I walked up every aisle, bumping into someone occasionally but I always say “excuse me” and the Berliners never do. I asked a woman in a red apron “do you have band aids?” She doesn’t even look up when she tells me “nein English”. Now irritated I did one more lap around the grocery store and finally found a small selection of band aids. Where they the kind I wanted? No, but they did the trick.
Walking down the busy streets by the Friedrichstadt neighborhood I remember admiring the tall skyscraper buildings, watching street performers, and soaking in the sounds of a busy city. I was worried the all of Berlin would resemble Kreuzberg but this part of town was entirely different. Walking around what seemed to be the center of the city we were looking for a place to eat but were all so indecisive. Proceeding farther and farther from the group, my white, strappy sandal on my right foot decided to completely snap off. I kept my foot flexed onto my sandal long enough until we found a restaurant to eat at. I considered buying a pair of shoes on the run but I figured I could tough it out and find a safety pin in the mean time. Outside the Reichstag building Catherine supplied me with a safety pin and I was ready to begin the tour.
August 5thThe uneven slabs of concrete create a disorienting feeling. The sky is blue and the sun is hot and tourists use the blocks as benches. Should this memorial be treated as a place to take a break from a long day of walking? Shouldn’t it be more respected because of what it represents? The smell of cigarettes (which I have become awfully familiar with) surrounds me. I can’t help but try counting how many blocks are before me. Do the small squares of cement under the blocks represent anything?
I remember sitting at some picnic tables outside the Stasi Museum drinking an orange Fanta was created by the Nazis. I’m not sure how accurate this is but I remember thinking how bizarre it is that products and scientific information that we know and use today was from the Nazi regime. Of course today people associate Fanta with colorful commercials with catchy tunes for this fizzy drink made by Coca-Cola, but during WWII, Fanta stood for something very different. I couldn’t help but ponder this thought for the majority of the Stasi Museum tour, especially since our tour guide was monotone and all the posters were in German.
August 6thThe ground is shaking below me from the subway. I first thought the stairs were leading us to the U-bahn or S-bahn but it turned out to be an entire world where people would go to hide and protect themselves and their family. I immediately get the chills from the temperature dropping and being surrounded by cold, concrete walls. The smell reminds me of a storage unit where everything kept their collects dust and is forgotten. Finding out that this bunker was once used for storage did not surprise me.
The whole architectural structure of the Jewish Museum was very unique and confusing to me. The artwork was old fashioned and beautiful but I didn’t necessarily know the significance of a lot of the art and pictures in the museum since we had to speed through the tour. I felt like the slopping walk ways and the arcing walls caught my attention more than what was on the walls. However, I remember walking out to the Garden of Exile noticing the names of the cities on the wall shooting down all the way to the door. Snapping pictures of “Amsterdam” and “Paris” I realized these are the cities that Jews sought refuge during WWII.
August 7thStaring at a plain, average building has never given me such a feeling before. Stepping on the gravel pathway before entering Sachsenhausen Camp gave me more than an uncomfortable feeling. My face was moist from the walk to the camp in the hot sun, the same walk the prisoners made. I stare at every nook and cranny of this building trying to grasp what kind of people worked inside that building. The man on the top office had a human flesh lampshade. I will never understand the monster inside those people. “Arbeit Macht Frei” was shown when entering the gates. “Work Brings Freedom”. What a lie.
Looking back on my postcards and trying to remember what happened in between the Sachsenhausen Camp and the Pergamon Museum, I know that was our first night out at a club because I remember exactly how I was feeling, physically that is, at the Pergamon Museum the next day; subpar at best. That night Natalia and myself hosted the get together before the club with everyone and we were proud of how successfully we co-hosted this festivity. I shouldn’t have worn gray that night because it was completely sweated through but on the other hand, Joe and I did match wonderfully. Drinks were consumed, friendships were established, and memories were made with our first night at a club. I may have gotten into a quarrel at one point in the night for believing I was defending Michael and I may have broken part of the nice, wooden fence, but I will never forget my first club experience in Berlin, courtesy of “wodka”.
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August 8thThe sun shines through the Pergamon Museum reflecting off of every wall and statue. I observe the tourists around me in their headphones explaining each part of the museum that covers hundreds of years of history and different cultures. I stared at the Ishtar Gate longer than most. This whole time I’ve been snapping pictures of everything, following the lead of my fellow tourists, not knowing most the time what I was taking a picture of and it’s significance. This, however, blew my mind. This gate that was constructed in about 575 BC has 3D images protruding from the wall. This is a brick wall and the animals stick out within the different bricks. How did they do this in 575 BC?
Aisle after aisle of sterling silver jewelry with unique designs, I remember my first experience of the Turkish flea market in Berlin and I am so regretting not buying that chunky, silver bangle and that oversized, turquoise ring or the painted version of a photograph taken of a pink bench with graffiti reading “liebe” right above, instead I bought the small, metal version of the photograph which it turned out to be a cutting board. I thought I could always return back to the market before we leave and get these things if I still want them and if I have enough Euros. In those situtations, next time I need to just get it because I couldn’t find the chunky, silver bangle or the oversized, turquoise ring the next time I came. Now not being in Berlin anymore, I wish I had more keep sakes from the city I loved.
August 10thWaiting outside this building, wind is blowing in my left ear, the sprinklers on the lawn ahead seam to be dumping water instead of sprinkling, causing even more noise and sadly I can only hear whimpers of Toby. I thought he said this was the Bundenstag. It is not the Bundenstag. I glare at the garbage scattered over the lawn, getting dumped on by the sprinklers and wonder to myself why a government building has a completely trashed front yard. I can almost see my reflection in the perfectly clean, black government cars and I dig through my bag to find my passport so I can enter this mysterious building and find out what it is. I forgot my passport. I try to scoot closer to Toby to find out what is going on but all I can hear are the sprinklers.
During our break for the lecture by Oliver about political extremism, there was a few of us gathered outside of the restroom looking over the balcony down to the perfectly clean floors with the engraved quote striking through the shiny floor the whole way. The group of girls I was with were talking about what we should wear in Istanbul and I remember being slightly concerned because I didn’t bring any dresses that go below my knees or longer shorts for that matter but Sally, worldly Sally who became our translator and informant for the trip, let us know that we could really wear whatever we wanted. It’s funny thinking about this conversation and how relieved I was because I later found out while in Istanbul if you dress like an American, you will stick out like a soar thumb. A very soar thumb.
August 11thIts overcast but humid today but I already know it’s going to be a good day. Why? Because it’s Shawn’s birthday! I can’t think of a time where it is ever socially acceptable to drink an alcoholic beverage inside of a university, but today, it is. Mimosas in celebration of Shawn’s 60th birthday and I feel giddy listening to Markus. I look behind me and I see Joe’s bright red face. One, small mimosa and he gets the Asian glow. I can’t stop laughing even though his face is hidden behind a folder.
The problem with my memory is I don’t recall dates or times very well. I do know however that it was around this point in our trip where Natalia and myself discovered heaven on earth called “King Burger”. This was probably the only place in Berlin with good customer service and employed Turkish men who were gentlemen. I was a little piece of home to us because they had great pizza, delicious cheeseburgers and delightful chicken wings. I would get the wings and Natalia would get the burger and we would both get the French fries that had mayonnaise and strange ketchup splattered all over it. The brothers that worked there were adorable, one was 15 and the other was 21, but as hard as I tried, I could never remember their names because I could hardly pronounce them.
August 12thThe tombstones hiding behind this sign don’t give me the same feeling as a cemetery. They surrounded by a bright garden and are all of different shapes and designs. I can overhear foreign languages by men sitting outside of the mart right outside the mosque. I know a mosque isn’t intended to be holy but rather a place for community and people to hang out and interact. Immediately I feel comfortable here and I think that’s the way religion is supposed to be.
I had several gasps of relief once landing into Istanbul. First, my chair that was falling apart around me had me concerned that the place might fall apart as well but luckily it was a safe landing. Secondly, my checked suitcase made it to the same place I did. Third, there was one currency exchange place open in the airport and man was shouting for us to come over. He spoke English very well but was talking a little too close to my face. He told us that we were getting the best rates by coming to this currency exchange but I have no idea if he was telling the truth but we went along with it. The portly man behind the counter quickly exchanged our Euros for Lira while the sleazy man, still talking too close to my face, was offering us a ride to wherever we’re staying. I tried to be as polite as possible but I’m sure he saw on my face that I thought he was a creep and I was going to get out of there as soon as possible.
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August 14thExploring Istanbul for the first time, I can’t help but be entirely and completely excited. As sad as it makes me to see diseased, stray cats, I feel comforted by them being around at the same time. The blend in here. They walk around the city just like everyone else does and they don’t seem to be too much of a bother. The air is fresh with a hint of hookah charcoal and corn on the cob. The breeze from the Bosphorus keeps me content and the sight of a sleeping local on a bench makes me laugh.
I have a small obsession with the Food Network and wish I could be a part of the ridiculous cook-off competitions they show, especially in the judges’ position. Going to the Culinary Institute in Istanbul, I felt like I was on the Food Network. Everything that was put in front of me was perfectly made, plated beautifully, and so incredibly delicious. I have never experience a five course meal like that and the fact that it was traditional Turkish food made it all that much better. I had the best raspberry smoothie I have ever had while consuming the most delicious backliva.
August 16th
When people speak of the beauty of Istanbul, are they referring the colorful and unique governmental housing? Yes the slums of Istanbul make for a beautiful picture, but also do the Turkish kids begging for me to buy a bracelet, the fisherman on the Bosphorus trying to catch food for their family, the old women still able to smile even though they’re missing most of their teeth, the stray cats from afar that reminds me of my pets at home until they get closer and you see their ear or tail missing. All of these characters of Istanbul make for a bright and exquisite photograph but at the end of the day, they’re not modeling because this is their life and we observe them like it’s a movie.
It’s hard for me to explain how thrilled I was to be back in Berlin. Even though we were in a group, every one had their own, individual experience in Istanbul. Not that I had hated Istanbul, I think I just really saw it for what it was, the good and the bad. Before we had left for our weekend getaway, I knew I was enjoying myself in Berlin but it’s when we were returning to Berlin that I realized how much I love that city. I remember walking into our apartment and plopping down on the ugly, yet comfortable, purple pleather chairs in our living room, turning on German MTV and being so content. Berlin had become my home.
I was so ready to get to know Berlin a little more intimately by performances of artists. Perhaps the performance “Is You Me” was a little bit out there and didn’t make a whole lot of sense, regardless, I enjoyed it so much. The performers on stage didn’t necessarily need to be talented for them to wear a sweatshirt and walk around stage with convulsions but the graphic designs that were being created during the performance made the majority of the set. Someone we couldn’t see was adding more drama and feeling than the actual performers.
Funny encounters with people tend to stick out most in my memory. Waiting outside the ticket office before the Soap Show there were a few of us finishing our Beck’s Gold beer. Manuela came over and asked one of us for a sip because she “had an awful taste” in her mouth. Natalia told he she could have another sip if she liked and she shyly declined at first since she’s on antibiotics but once those words left her mouth she quickly refuted her comment and said, “oh, what’s one sip?” as she grabbed a beer. At that point we were all offering her “sips” so she wouldn’t feel so guilty drinking beer since it was just a sip… out of everyone’s beer.
August 20th
I have a small obsession with the Food Network and wish I could be a part of the ridiculous cook-off competitions they show, especially in the judges’ position. Going to the Culinary Institute in Istanbul, I felt like I was on the Food Network. Everything that was put in front of me was perfectly made, plated beautifully, and so incredibly delicious. I have never experience a five course meal like that and the fact that it was traditional Turkish food made it all that much better. I had the best raspberry smoothie I have ever had while consuming the most delicious backliva.
August 15th
Is it bad that the security in this mall didn’t catch my attention? Why didn’t I initially find this strange with an old man right outside trying to sell bracelets. The architecture of this mall is phenomenal and the shops are far from my price range but I just children walking around bare foot. Around the corner there was a homeless man completely filthy, holding is young child who was just as dirty as him. Who here is going to shop at Marc Jacobs? I feel like I’m in LA or New York when I’m standing in this mall, from the shops to the people shopping here. I am far, far away from any American city but I also feel far away from the supposed shoppers here in Istanbul who are able to shop here not only because of their wealth, but also their appearance where they can get by security.
I can only describe the nightlife in Istanbul as disorienting, rowdy, and deafening from either loud music or the background noises of cars and people talking. All of us went out for Daniel’s birthday and it was nice having Amy’s friend who was a local to tell us about the spots to go to celebrate an American’s 21st birthday. The first place we went didn’t make sense because it was a restaurant after we had already eaten and way overpriced. Luckily, Mert the local, had no problem giving away 30 Lira to the man playing the tambourine because there was no way were paying. A few Raki drinks later we powered through the crowded streets to get to a club called Vanilla. Dancing around everyone and screaming every time an American song came on was honestly a blissful experience. We were all in our own world and completely ignored those watching us from behind.
I can only describe the nightlife in Istanbul as disorienting, rowdy, and deafening from either loud music or the background noises of cars and people talking. All of us went out for Daniel’s birthday and it was nice having Amy’s friend who was a local to tell us about the spots to go to celebrate an American’s 21st birthday. The first place we went didn’t make sense because it was a restaurant after we had already eaten and way overpriced. Luckily, Mert the local, had no problem giving away 30 Lira to the man playing the tambourine because there was no way were paying. A few Raki drinks later we powered through the crowded streets to get to a club called Vanilla. Dancing around everyone and screaming every time an American song came on was honestly a blissful experience. We were all in our own world and completely ignored those watching us from behind.
August 16thWhen people speak of the beauty of Istanbul, are they referring the colorful and unique governmental housing? Yes the slums of Istanbul make for a beautiful picture, but also do the Turkish kids begging for me to buy a bracelet, the fisherman on the Bosphorus trying to catch food for their family, the old women still able to smile even though they’re missing most of their teeth, the stray cats from afar that reminds me of my pets at home until they get closer and you see their ear or tail missing. All of these characters of Istanbul make for a bright and exquisite photograph but at the end of the day, they’re not modeling because this is their life and we observe them like it’s a movie.
It’s hard for me to explain how thrilled I was to be back in Berlin. Even though we were in a group, every one had their own, individual experience in Istanbul. Not that I had hated Istanbul, I think I just really saw it for what it was, the good and the bad. Before we had left for our weekend getaway, I knew I was enjoying myself in Berlin but it’s when we were returning to Berlin that I realized how much I love that city. I remember walking into our apartment and plopping down on the ugly, yet comfortable, purple pleather chairs in our living room, turning on German MTV and being so content. Berlin had become my home.
I was so ready to get to know Berlin a little more intimately by performances of artists. Perhaps the performance “Is You Me” was a little bit out there and didn’t make a whole lot of sense, regardless, I enjoyed it so much. The performers on stage didn’t necessarily need to be talented for them to wear a sweatshirt and walk around stage with convulsions but the graphic designs that were being created during the performance made the majority of the set. Someone we couldn’t see was adding more drama and feeling than the actual performers.
Funny encounters with people tend to stick out most in my memory. Waiting outside the ticket office before the Soap Show there were a few of us finishing our Beck’s Gold beer. Manuela came over and asked one of us for a sip because she “had an awful taste” in her mouth. Natalia told he she could have another sip if she liked and she shyly declined at first since she’s on antibiotics but once those words left her mouth she quickly refuted her comment and said, “oh, what’s one sip?” as she grabbed a beer. At that point we were all offering her “sips” so she wouldn’t feel so guilty drinking beer since it was just a sip… out of everyone’s beer.
August 20thThe graffiti walk turned out to be a mysterious art walk to me. There is a group of artists who go around the city and put their touch on everything and anything they feel like. I appreciated it because the art was for themselves and for people to discover but they are not given name recognition and no everyone notices them. Here is black paint over what once were swastikas on the light pole. The black paint covers this up perfectly yet stands out enough so people will recognize it’s there and then wonder why it is there. These people are genius to me. I feel like I would fit in this group magnificently.
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