Seventeenth Letter, February 20
Dear Berlin,
Every time I move, my muscles ache in a new and different way, reminding me of my unfulfilled resolutions to exercise. We are in the second week of the new semester, the Part II of our grant year, if you will. As my schedule is still a bit undefined, I wake up to a message from Will: “Seems a bit silly to come in for one lesson…”
Agreeing, I turn off my alarm and go back to sleep. Today I am feeling sleepy, but warm and cozy as well. I’m reading a book instead of watching TV, which feels somehow more catlike than potato-like.
Since my letter last week wherein I could finally separate mental-health related issues from my attitude about living here, I have a new paradigm for talking about the weekend.
This weekend started off as mental chaos. My second job has been driving me insane. A visit from a friend was cringeworthy, but completely expected. Why do I let these things continue? I discovered mold in my windowsill, and nearly had a meltdown. But window looks out onto the balcony where my landlord was smoking, and I had no desire to have that conversation while trying to clean it. My landlord has been irritatingly ever-present lately having loud conversations at 2 AM and not fixing the WiFi when asked. But on Friday, when I locked my keys at home only five minutes after seeing him using our coffee and leaving the dishes in the kitchen, he was nowhere to be found. My laptop seemed to give out for three days, causing me the most anxiety of all, and yet…
Dear Berlin, it’s been fun hanging out with you. On Thursday I got back to Markthalle 9 with DL, and when classes were cancelled on Friday, I picked up a developed roll of film, and Kelsey and I met up at 2 and 2, back to Neukölln, to the birthplace of the Berlin romance. We hit up the Turkish market, splitting a bag of 10 avocados for €2, and then headed to Potsdamer Platz to indulge in the season of Berlinale.
It took us an hour of standing out in the cold to catch a bare glimpse of Barry Keoghan and Hugo Weaving on their way out of a press conference, and then we were turned away from Robert Pattinson’s red carpet because of our (empty) water bottles. This was probably for the best, because I had to rush home so Moon could open the door for me since I was still locked out.
That evening, we got dressed up and went to see a premiere of the Chinese competition film at Zoopalast, Girls Always Happy by Yang Mingming. I’m not a huge movie person but it was definitely fun to be in the film festival spirit. Afterwards, we got fried chicken from Risa at Zoologischer Gartens, still made up and in all black at midnight, but surrounded by couples, groups of high schoolers, young people of all kinds.
On Saturday after my laptop was finally resurrected, after three days, no less, Kelsey took me to Berta Block in Pankow for some bouldering (this explains my sore muscles). We had a grand old time realizing how relatively bad we are and watching the Prenzi yuppies and DINKYs lounge around in the cool, effortless manner that they have. We also ran into Jen, which made me feel a bit more settled because I apparently have people to run into. Plus, she reminded me about the Urban Sports Club membership, and I’m strongly considering.
On Sunday after a pleasant coffee bar experience with Jenny subbing in with me, I met up with HyeWon, Dabin, Jo, Phoebe, and William, and one of Dabin’s friends, for the best pho that I’ve had since moving here. It was truly iconic. We were all stuffed to the brim when HyeWon mentioned the world’s best cinnamon roll at Zeit für Brot, and decided to walk there through Hackescher Markt, which also made me feel very hip and cool and edgy and Berlin. I guess I’m getting a lot of that lately, when I happen to leave Steglitz.
Much to our chagrin, the person ahead of us in line purchased the last cinnamon roll of the day, so we had to settle for apple cake and a chocolate bun. Damn you, hipster middle-class millennials that participate in Berlin Sunday brunch culture! But that’s me too, so I’m resolved to go back sometime a bit earlier in the day to have that critically acclaimed sticky bun.
In the afternoon, I agreed to teach a small graffiti class in East Berlin to a Girl Scout troop looking to earn their art badge. Like, what? Apparently, I’m qualified for this type of thing. I’ll keep you posted on how that goes in a few weeks.
Berlin, I even almost went to a small art house theater to watch Black Panther in 2D OmU. That plan was put on hold until tomorrow, but I really gotta say that thinking this whole thing out has made me immeasurably readier to milk this experience for all that it is and not to dwell on if I am capable of loving you the most. That’s what dating is for, I guess!
This has definitely been the blog-iest post since I started writing you, but Berlin is celebrated for being a place that you could conceivably do it all in a weekend: see an international movie premiere in the West, shop for vegetables at an outdoor Turkish bazaar in Kreuzkölln, go enjoy the foodie culture in Mitte, boulder with other good looking Western twenty-somethings in the East, and volunteer for the cause of Arts & Education in your free time. I just had to brag a little bit.
Love,
