Woke up at 4:30 like always. Had tea and toast for breakfast and listened to Bowie while listening to the city waking up. Our apartment is on the ground floor over looking a courtyard, so we can’t see much. The shower is in the living room, separate from the bathroom, with a sliding door like a closet. The shower itself is up on a platform and for some reasons it slopes slightly forward so when you close your eyes to wash your hair you get a sense of vertigo. I took a shower this morning and the living room flooded because I couldn’t figure out how to position the shower curtain to prevent this from happening By the looks of the wood floor around the shower door, this is not an uncommon occurrence. Everything about this apartment is strange and off kilter.

We are hoping to go to the Hauptbanhof (main train station) today to get transit passes and see if we can find a public library with a reliable internet connection. We need to sort this phone issue out. We might have to go to Alexanderplatz to do it, since that is where all the cell phone sellers are, but I am trying to avoid it for now since it’s a major tourist hellhole, and I really want my first impressions of the city to be more positive than that.

German cleaning products smell weird. I don’t mean that as a judgment because they smell different from American cleaning products, I mean they literally seem to be going for “scents not found in nature”. I keep trying to identify the scent… lime? gardenia? WHAT IS THAT? I am also deeply amused that the name for the generic product line here is “Ja!”. Well, alright then!

My bed is some sort of torture device designed by whatever the Eastern Block version of Ikea was in the 80s. It is a metal tubular frame with unsecured hunks of spare wood for slats and a floppy “Ikea-ski” mattress. Also, Germans use 2 of these tiny little half-comforters, like something for a twin bed, on a full size bed. I guess it’s so each person can have their own, but it they are so short I can’t cover my head with it without my feet poking out, and I am only 5’5”.

NO. Not everyone in Germany speaks English. In fact, most people we have encountered speak only a little English, but their English is still better than my German. I am actually relieved about this, it’s forcing me to use my German. And I have to say, people were 100% correct that it really does change things to be immersed. Far from being the terrifying nightmare I imagined it, I am actually able to read signs and understand people much more easily than ever before, and am involuntarily starting to speak German with Elliott. I woke up this morning and thought “O mein Gott, ich hasse mein Bett!” before I realized that I was thinking in German.

PART 2

Accidentally ended up at Alexanderplatz today (walked the wrong way). Decided to run with it and took pictures of the fountains and Marienkirche (St. Marien’s Church), which was gorgeous. Wandered over to Museuminsel and saw the Berliner Dom. Stopped at the Döner Kebap place across the street from the house. My first kebab. I can see the appeal. Came home, took a nap, then wandered off to the Mauerpark area to try and find Ben. Got lost again. Finally found his apartment. He was not at home, which considering what a pain it was to get there was very annoying. Came home and stopped at the Mexican place next door for dinner. It was… different. Very pickled tasting. My feet are a mass of blisters and my back is killing me. I literally think I walked 10 miles today. That is a lot for anyone, but for someone with MS, it is pure insanity, and I can already feel the cumulative effect of the last few days on my body. I am going to have to force myself to take it easy tomorrow.

It has become my goal to get a German dog to look at me, and none have yet. Not a single one.

Apple blossoms!!! Sehr süß!

For the first time, I forgot a word in English. We were walking past a Denkmal where the bust or whatever was supposed to be on the pedestal was covered by a box for some reason. I tried to make a joke about it being to commemorate a hero from the Great Box War, but I couldn’t remember what a Denkmal was in English. I struggled, and seriously could not find the word anywhere in my brain. It was a very strange feeling, because as far as my brain was concerned it already had the answer. Finally, I pulled the word memorial out of my hat, but since that moment I am actually having more and more moments like this, where I am lapsing into German unconsciously. I am understanding signs and conversations much easier as well. I even overheard some footballers talking about how one guy’s shoes caused him a problem on the field and cost them a point.

I have 2 mantras for this trip so far: “Is that a thing?” (as in, “is this something that Germans do or is something weird happening?”) and a panicked “ARE WE IN THE BIKE LANE??”

After seeing an advertisement for McDonalds, Elliott has decided my secret identity should be Flexible McMenu.

I feel a bit horrible being such an awful American tourist, but it is kind of unavoidable. No matter how much you prepare you are going to lapse into your own cultural norms. Taking pictures of everything without realizing you are in people’s way, laughing at things that just seem so absurd without any cultural context to explain them, not understanding that someone is asking you to get out of their way because you aren’t used to anyone addressing you directly in German, forgetting that you shouldn’t put your hands in your pockets or that the store clerk doesn’t hand you the mone but puts it on a little plate instead. The list goes on of possible points of failure. We walked past a restaurant that had this statue of a hot dog that was BEYOND HIDEOUS, all ratty and battered with creepy, muted colors and a leering, bulbous face and holding a bottle what I sincerely hope was supposed to be mayonnaise, squeezing out a suggestive white dribble. I yelped out “oh dear gods why is it so horrible?!” just as the owner came out right in front of me to set out his menu board. He gave me a foul look. I felt bad, but to be fair, I don’t show any better judgment when I am at home either. And that thing was hideous by any measure.