Week 4 was officially when I started to spread my wings. I also started drinking, which I don’t normally do but I found actually quite fun in Berlin. The laws here are extremely loose and it is basically treated the same as any other beverage as far as consumption goes. You can drink on the street, purchase alcohol 24/7, and aside from drinking and driving laws you are basically treated like an adult who can make their own life decisions. What a novel concept. Surprisingly, the only time I really saw people drunk in public, they were usually American tourists… embarrassingly enough myself included.
I should go out to Mauerpark today, I really really should. But my feet are killing me and my body is aching. I can’t even find the energy to take a shower right now. Guess I will stay home and try to get some work done here. In other news, when we were sitting in the bar yesterday with Ben, we heard a German version of “The Night They Drove Old Dixie Down”, but I could tell the lyrics weren’t the same. I finally found it, and it was recorded in 1972 about a guy who dies of a drug overdose. Because Germany.
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Emailed German Customs about how to get my new laptop here. The response was nightmarish maze of paperwork and forms and different departments and offices I need to deal with. It prompted me to compose a song to the tune of “Brazil” that included lyrics like “It’s like a Kafka Christmas treeeeeee…. and all the presents aren’t for meeeee…Bur-a-cra-cy… in Ger-man-y…”
Seriously, this is some crazy ass red tape.
Personal Journal: Berlin Diary – Day 20
Why is Der Kommissar in town? Is there a convention? The Boat Show? And why can’t I turn around? Is he behind me!? Should I be afraid? I mean, if he’s just come into town I can safely assume he’s out his jurisdiction, so he can’t arrest me. Is he a ghost!? He’s a ghost, isn’t he! Jeez, man, what kind of messed up boat show has cop ghosts that follow you around? That’s some really over the top security. You know what? I’m skipping this years boat show out of protest. I’m glad that’s settled.
Personal Journal: Strange Dreams
So we went out and had the most awesome and perfect day in Berlin today. Beer and radlers in Viktoriapark, doener at Mustafa’s in Kreuzberg, wandering in a gorgeous old cemetery, buying liqueurs at a small distillery (after liberal sampling of their wares first), a crazy and eccentric book shop run by a British ex-pat who was a total character, pulled pork and sauerkraut at Markthalle IX, gelato for dessert, then off to a totally amazing little bar that was playing incredible music from the 80s for legit absinthe, then stopping for more beer at Gorki Park across the street. Come home and Prince is dead. Well, shit.
This day was totally mental, but in a good way. Went to Museumsinsel, saw some sort of Armenian ceremony thing that we couldn’t actually see but there was singing at St. Hedwig’s. Then went to the Altes Museum (Old Museum) and saw all the Greek, Roman, and Etruscan statues. As we were leaving, the church bells started to ring at the Berlin Cathedral (which is right next to the museum). Then, just as that finished, a large group of Syrians showed up in the Lustgarten to celebrate a wedding with music, dancing and singing. We walked to Alexanderplatz to catch the U-Bahn, and saw a guy with a giraffe head playing the buckets while a bunch of football fans danced and sang “We’re Not Gonna Take It” in German.
And to think, we didn’t even get out the door until after noon today…
Video: Syrian Wedding Party in the Lustgarten, Berlin
Video: Giraffe-Headed Bucket Player in Alexanderplatz
Video: St. Hedwig’s Cathedral, Berlin
Gallery: Altes Museum (Old Museum)
Days like today, where I just stay at home and work on my research, try to plan next year’s class schedule, and make borscht are the days where the homesickness really hurts. Nothing to distract me, I guess.
Berliner Weisse is the shit. 2 Berliner Weisse is even besser.
Signed,
The Girl Who Should Never DrinkAnd now I move on to my first Radler (50/50 beer and lemonade). Jesus Cristos these people know what to do with a beer. And no, this isn’t a daytime drunk, it’s 9pm here
… why is it that the beer that sounded so awesome at 9pm feels so awful at 3am?
