Kiwi in Berlin

New Blog

2005-01-23T01:01:00.000+01:00

For those who want to read about the mad hijinx of my life in New Zealand, head to Restless Kiwi. As we say here in NZ, Bring a Plate.

The Last Post

2005-01-12T17:00:00.000+01:00

This is my last update before we get up very early tomorrow morning and start making our way slowly back to the other side of the world, trying not to watch too many crappy aeroplane films on the way. I'm sorry that I'm not staying longer and getting more settled so I could keep writing, but it's time to go back for a while. This is the third time I've lived overseas though, so I'm sure it will happen again soon in the future.

For some reason German has many different words for pain. For example:

Heimweh = "home ache" = homesickness
Fernweh = "far ache" = the yearning for somewhere far away
Nahweh = "near ache" = the feeling of sadness that comes when you return home to find it is not as you remember it

When I am not in Berlin I feel Fernweh and there are lots of things I miss, and it's hard to explain but it's like the more time I spend here and learn about Germany then the harder it is to go back to somewhere where those things aren't really relevant. A friend of mine told me your nationality is not just your passport but where you have lived and what's important to you, so I do feel a little bit German. But then of course I am a Kiwi, a sixth-generation one or something like that, so that part of me is important too. I can look at it positively and say that there are two completely different places that I love and feel at home in.

Back in NZ I plan to find someone I can practise German with, so I don't lose it, and I'd like to be able to do some more translating too, because it's fun and challenging. I will have a new blog and I'll post the link here when it's up for those who want to see what I'm doing in NZ (for those who want to read about Berlin, the two blogs I like are Berlin Blog and Berlin Bites.

So thanks for dropping by and sorry I have to rush off, but feel free to hang around and turn off the lights on your way out.

Auf Wiedersehen.
Haere Ra.
Kiwi in Berlin

PS For those of you who blog, this article is kinda scary - someone fired from moaning about his boss on his personal blog.
*looks back nervously through blog archives*

What the...?

2005-01-09T13:32:00.000+01:00

I know you're all just dying to hear about the weather, which is, like, the most exciting topic ever (well, it can be with natural disasters but my post won't be so dramatic).

It has been over 10 degrees C every day here. It's just madness - normally such warm temperatures don't come along until March or even April. It should be freezing, with biting winds, gloves, hats, thermals!

But don't get me wrong, I'm not complaining. Since it was clear no snow was coming, I like it warm. And when I'm in Singapore next Friday it will be about 30 degrees, which will be a shock for my sun-deprived body. I'm starting to look like Keanu Reeves at the beginning of the first Matrix movie when his face had taken on the neon glow of his computer.

Yes, just like that.

Souvenir time

2005-01-07T17:48:00.000+01:00

I bought some DVDs today - Gloomy Sunday, Herr Lehrmann, Goodbye Lenin and Das Boot. All in German. I was especially pleased with Gloomy Sunday because it's really hard to find.

I've been working on an article today about a New Zealand cafe in Berlin. I've been there twice and the food is really good - fresh fish and chips, pavlova, kiwifruit drinks. The owner was nice and invited me over for drinks, but it's only a few more days till we go now (sniff).

With my friend Louise from England I went to a big art exhibition and bought a poster to take back to NZ, which shows a big Gothic painting by a German artist called Schinkel. It also says which gallery it hangs in so I will be able to look at it on my wall and remember being here.

I'm starting to feel a bit sad about going actually, although it's time to leave and do something else for a while. It's hard to explain to people who haven't been to Berlin, but it just feels like home. If only I were British and then it would be a short flight away instead of two very long tiring ones. Anyway, I should stop feeling sorry for myself. Lots of people don't even get to travel, or when they do they get knocked over by tsunamis and stuff.

Silence

2005-01-05T13:23:00.000+01:00

Funny German translation of an English title #27: The American TV show Murder, She Wrote, which is about a middle-aged female detective, becomes Mord ist ihr Hobby (Murder is her hobby), which sounds like she kills people the way others collect records or play tennis.

I was in a bookstore on Friedrichstrasse today, looking for some German DVDs to take back to NZ, when an announcement was made on the intercom: "Dear customers, please observe a worldwide three minutes' silence for the victims of the tsunami in Asia. Thank you."

It was like someone had zapped everyone with a stun-gun. Everybody not only shut-up, but froze in their tracks and barely moved a muscle for the full three minutes. Touching, but I don't know - isn't donating money for the still-living more helpful? Oh well.

After resuming motion, my visiting English friend and I went for a coffee. I'm going to miss the coffees in funky Berlin cafes, chatting on old sofas in the hazy, smoke-filled air, surrounded by cool artwork and music.

Hallo! Hallo! Get naked!

2005-01-04T18:56:00.000+01:00

Deutsche Telekom have probably driven more people insane than they care to admit. It doesn't help that they have a special English phone number which they never answer and which has a horrible message looped telling you to "please hold za line" with a permanent "Hallo!...Hallo!" in the background. Richard was tearing his hair out as he waited for them to answer (they didn't). Well, it at least spurred him on to brave their German number for a monosyllabic conversation with a patient DT employee.

In other news, I went with an English friend to Stadbad Neukoln today for a swim and spa, but never made it inside. It wasn't the mixed pools I objected to, it was the enforced nakedness. Now, I am not a prude - if other people want to get naked in the pool, fine, and I have swum naked in Krumme Lanke in the past. But compulsory nakedness? Not actually being allowed to wear a bikini if I felt like it? So I said a firm Nein.

My time in a nuclear bunker

2005-01-03T10:14:00.000+01:00

Because it's less than two weeks until we leave, I've been doing a few more touristy things that I hadn't done before, like visiting museums. The one I went to yesterday was called The Story of Berlin, and I'd avoided it because it sounded tacky and unnecessary, but after a few people recommended it I decided to go. It was actually really good - a multimedia tour of Berlin's history, not just of the past century, but its whole history back to 1245-ish.

At the end everyone also got a tour of a real underground bunker, which is one of the few bunkers not built to hide from World War Two bombing, but from feared Cold War bombing. It was built in West Berlin in the '70s, in Ku'damm which is one of Berlin's more touristy shopping streets near Zoo Station and the half-bombed relic of the Kaiser Wilhelm Memorial Church.

We all descended into the bunker, which was silent and dimly lit. An odd, creepy shelter - no one ever used it because there was no nuclear attack from the Soviets - but it's all set up "just in case", and could still be used today, although the nuking would have to be about 5km away and the bunker only fits 3,000 people (it would have been first in, first served, apparently).

Bunk stretchers took up most of the space, but there were bathrooms and a kitchen. The guide played a tape with atomic blast noises to help us imagine what it would be like during a real attack - the booms made the bunker vibrate. "Es ist nicht echt (it's not real)", he reassured the wary-looking kids in our group.

Everyone was relieved to get out and back to the real world.

Fünf, vier, drei, zwei, eins....

2005-01-01T10:52:00.000+01:00

"F%&k me!" exclaimed the British guy standing next to me, as the hundredth firecracker went off next to him, numbing his left ear even more. "Guys, how about we go get some beers or something," he pleaded to his friends. But they weren't listening. It was 15 minutes to midnight and 2005, they were standing near the Brandenburg Gate in Berlin with a million other people and didn't want to miss the countdown.

A few days ago, German Foreign Minister Joska Fischer had made a televised plea for Germans to forgo their fireworks this year and instead donate their money to the tsunami relief fund. Well, as far as I could see, about two people had bothered to do this, because there were fireworks above me, next to me, under me...everywhere. And not just the little firecrackers - some were a good four inches wide, and when they blew up it sounded like it was 1945 and the Russians were back in Berlin for revenge.

I was torn between admiring all the skyrockets going off one by one every second and resenting the firecrackers which were being flung around with complete abandon. I didn't fight in 'Nam, but the night gave me an idea of what shellshocked might mean. I've never seen so many people all using fireworks at once - especially fireworks that were banned from private use in New Zealand over a decade ago because too many people were hurt and too many houses caught fire.

But apart from the noise, everyone was pretty well behaved. We were trying to make it to the Strasse des 17. Junis, the long street in Tiergarten which ends with the Siegesaule (triumph column), but it was way too crowded so we ended up near the Brandenburg Gate on Unter den Linden, which still had all its pretty lit-up trees.

Soon a big cheer went up, meaning it was midnight, and everyone started kissing, hugging and drinking cheap champagne. Richard was distracted for a minute by the sight of some girls making out right in front of us, but soon turned his attention back to the skyrockets, which were shooting up with even more frenzy now it was 2005. All heads turned up to watch. There was some official fireworks display, but who could tell? The sky lit up, the rain had stopped a good hour ago, and the temperature wasn't even in the minuses.

Guten Rutsch (happy "slide" into the new year).

Hai!

2004-12-30T13:16:00.000+01:00

So, we are two New Zealanders living in a faux-Japanese flat in Germany. So, which country am I in again?

Here are some pics:

1. This is the life-sized Japanese samurai warrior in our living room. So far his uses include being a substitute Christmas tree and a coat holder.

2. Here is Richard slipping into one of the two wall-mounted kimonos. So, no swanning round the house in one of these little numbers.

3. The bedroom. Note the lantern-light, kimono, futon, stones round the tatami mat.

Arigato gozaimasu. Anshyo Bango (Thank you. PIN number. I can't remember much more Japanese from year two university than that, but it's inspiring me to go to Japan.)

Not in Asia

2004-12-29T14:47:00.000+01:00

An email from my mother: "I'm pretty sure you're not in Asia at the moment, but can you just confirm..." This may seem a bit silly, but I'm known for my spontaneous trips and will actually be in Singapore in a few weeks' time, so it wasn't totally out of the question. But no, I was still here in Berlin, watching the rising death toll on BBC World. Apparently there are still 400 NZers unaccounted for - SE Asia is a common holiday spot or stopover for Kiwis going to or from the UK.

For the past few days I've been hanging out with an Australian friend here, someone I actually met in Germany but hadn't seen for 3 years, so it has been really good to catch up. Who knows when we'll see each other again, but he's thinking about Buenos Aires as somewhere to live, and I wouldn't mind going back there again.

We're booked on an EasyJet flight for London tomorrow morning, but it looks like we're not going. My boyfriend's pretty sick at the moment and so a big new year and sleeping on someone's living room floor probably isn't the best plan. I don't really mind - I've never been here for New Year (called Silvester in German for some reason - must ask someone why, actually).

Memorials

2004-12-26T13:38:00.000+01:00

I don't know if I've written much about memorials in Berlin, but I was reminded of them yesterday when I joined the procession of people taking their post-Xmas-lunch stroll through Mitte. If you look down at the ground, you'll often spot little gold tiles embedded in the concrete. They're known as Stolpersteine, or literally "stumble stones" and can be found in some of Germany's big cities. On the stone is a name, a date of birth and death (usually 1943), and the word Auschwitz.

The stones are placed outside the buildings where these people lived. They're a great idea, I think - a reminder of the war and its victims that's subtle. Other war memorials in Berlin include the Missing House, which is just around the corner from where I'm typing, where a gap in the buildings has lists of names and occupations on each side. The signs mark exactly where the person lived, in the building which no longer exists, before they were murdered in concentration camps.

There is also a list of concentration camps near Nollendorfplatz, and a list of murdered Jews in Gendarmenmarkt, which has a mirror behind it so you see your own reflection when reading the names. There's a Holocaust memorial being built near the Brandenburg Gate, but is highly controversial and is taking years to finish. And that doesn't include all the Berlin Wall memorials, which now includes the model Wall in the middle of town, and all the crosses to mark each victim.

It is a strange feeling sometimes to live in a city where so many bad things have happened, but you must remember that alongside these memorials are all the exciting things that are happening now, so it's not like Berlin is one big memorial to the past.

A Quiet Day

2004-12-25T13:19:00.000+01:00

It's Christmas Day, but since we decided to do things the German way and open our presents last night it feels more like Boxing Day and lots of places are open for business.

I didn't get so many presents this year because we're far away, but I got plenty of e-cards and text messages from NZ. We also got a big care package from my boyfriend's parents, with Milo, gingernuts, chocolates, Marmite (am all Marmited-out). My boyfriend gave me a cool new phone, a German one which people won't have in NZ, so I've been playing with that.

We also sat down to a big candlelit dinner of ham, salmon, breads, wine, tabouli, mashed potatoes, tomato and mushroom salad. Yum! And chocolate pudding for dessert. For some odd reason we don't have an oven in our new flat (the money obviously all went into the Japanese warrior).

We ended up watching some movies, including Princess Bride, which my boyfriend hadn't even seen. Even after 20 years or so, it's still very funny. "My name is Inego Montoya. You kill my father. Prepare to die." And we watched a few episodes of Arrested Development which is my favourite programme at the moment. Genius.

So all in all, it was a nice night, if a bit lonely. Of course I do have friends in Berlin, but they'd all gone away for Xmas. So it will be good to go to London and spend New Year with friends, and I'm expecting some visitors here in Berlin before we go.

One sleep till Santa

2004-12-23T13:19:00.000+01:00

This will be my last post before Xmas, since I'm in one of those nasty, multi-national Starbucks surfing wireless and they're closed for the next few days. (have tried to find wireless in our flat by waving my laptop around, which works sometimes but not enough :) )

It shall not be a white Xmas here, sadly. In fact, it's predicted to be yet another crappy, rainy day. But it's meant to snow a few days later and I'll be holding weather.yahoo.com to that. It did snow a little bit yesterday, and the temperature was about -10 C at midday. Apparently NZ is having one of the shittiest summers ever so far, but it's still about 20 degrees warmer there so it's all relative.

Our flat will look a little bit festive, at least. We have a few presents under our Japanese Warrior tree and we're heading to the English shop around the corner for a few things like big crackers, puddings and stuff. Xmas is never a particularly big deal for me, so I don't mind where I am for it.

Because it's Germany, we'll be opening presents on Xmas Eve which will seem a bit strange. Apparently Santa is less jolly here and more intimidating - often in a house with little kids, the father or a neightbour will dress up and burst in the door, demanding to know if the kids have been good and glowering down at them sternly as the nod their little heads and quake. I'm not expecting to see Santa this year - we haven't re-registered since moving flats (bad, bad Kiwis!) so he would never know how to find us. And I probably haven't been good enough anyway...

To anyone who's read my blog once, twice, or religiously on a daily basis this year, have a schöne Weihnachten und alles Gute im neuen Jahr.

Shona xx

London Called

2004-12-22T13:38:00.000+01:00

Two days in London wasn’t much, but we’re going back for New Year anyway, and this trip was just to see Muse. I’d seen Muse earlier this year in NZ at the Big Day Out, and while they were very impressive, seeing a band for 45 minutes wedged in between other big bands outside in the middle of the day just can’t compare with seeing them for almost two hours, at night in Earl’s Court in London, which holds 18,000 and was the biggest indoor venue I’d ever seen.

The concert had sold out within days to pre-sales, and I’d scored tickets only by clicking frantically and hoping it would work at some point, because the site had slowed right down. At first I was disappointed that I could only get seats, because Muse isn’t a band you sit down to. But it turned out our seats were great – near the stage and I could see everything without having to peer around a 7-foot rugbyhead, which is what normally happens.

Anyway, doors opened at 6pm but Muse didn’t show for another three hours. There were two average supporting acts who I didn’t know, and a hard-core mosh-pit had formed at the front as soon as doors opened. They weren’t budging. In fact, security had to start passing them water before Muse even came on stage, because it got so squishy and hot.

I always get excited about concerts, but this one was especially big, partly because Muse is a huge live act, and partly because travelling to a whole other country just to see a band adds to the general hype and build-up.

It more than met my expectations. It’s hard to describe exactly how amazing it was. The noise of the crowd was overwhelming – everyone knew the words, everyone was jumping up and how (including the seated people – as I said, you just can’t sit for Muse). It was like a two-hour musical orgasm. HUGE. Even if you’re not a big Muse fan; if you have any interest in live rock music whatsoever, you have to see them. Frontman Matt Bellamy is incredible. He belts out tunes with the power of 20 voices, whips up a frenzy on his guitar, and streams his fingers up and down the piano. Really, if I were single I would hunt him down and marry him.

So, after two encores and then finding my way outside into the cold with 18,000 other sweaty people, I was totally euphoric. It may sound a bit übertrieben (overdone), but it’s not often in life you see something like that. It’s like when you read an incredible book or see an amazing film – and that only really happens a handful of times. It beat out my previous favourite concerts - Smashing Pumpkins in Wellington in 1996 (front row), and seeing Shihad for the first time aged 16.

If I was a kid seeing a concert like that for the first time, I would race home, buy a drum-kit or guitar, and start working my way to playing in front of an audience that rapturous. Actually there was a kid behind us who was clearly a musician, because his air-guitar and air drums were spot on. He knew all the words and was moving around as though the music had completely possessed him, as though he was on the stage himself playing.

Otherwise the weekend was spent seeing people and having pub lunches. There are some things about London I miss (I lived there until September 10, 2001, meaning yes, that I was in a plane on 9/11, not the safest place to be), but they’re mostly small things, like pies, big sandwiches from Pret a Manger, good tea, Camden Markets. I don’t miss how crowded and hectic it is, people rushing everywhere no matter what day or time it is, how dirty it can be, how expensive. But when you visit you can concentrate on the fun things and visit friends.

We got back to Berlin late last night and saw that snow had fallen over the weekend and everything was covered in white. It’s sunny and melting today, though, and Xmas is predicted to be rainy, rather than white. Oh well. Another year perhaps.

PS Due to popular demand (well, one person), I’ll take some flat photos and upload them in the next few days.

Our new flat

2004-12-17T13:23:00.000+01:00

...has no internet. >:( But it does have a TV. It also has big, sloping windows that the snow will fall on when it snows, which it hasn't lately.

It is Japanese-themed. This means that in the bedroom there is a tatami mat on the floor and the edges are surrounded by stones. Apparently stones are usually in Japanese gardens, not bedrooms, but never mind. There are two kimonos hanging from the walls, which people usually wear, not hang on walls, but never mind.

But the scariest part is the stone life-sized Japanese warrior who stands in the living room and stares at me when I sit on the couch. I'm getting used to him now, but I still get a small fright every time I walk in the room. I would like to hide him away, but he's very heavy and there's nowhere for him to go. Anyway, I've decided to use him as our Xmas tree and then maybe with presents under him he will seem more benign.

Our flat is up three flights of stairs, which tests my endurance. To get to it you turn off Oranienburger Strasse, one of Berlin's main streets, and go up the stairs in the courtyard. The courtyard is pretty cool. It's called the "Kunsthof" (art courtyard) and has lots of little shops and cafes. It's on the same block as the Synagogue, which I haven't been inside but it has a huge golden dome that sparkles when the sun comes out and has two security guards outside in green uniforms, who try not to freeze as they stand in the cold and direct tourists.

On Oranienburger Strasse are heaps of cafes, but they're all mainstream and pretty much the same. Some of the back streets are more interesting - lots of alternative art galleries. One has a white flag hanging out of each window, and every few seconds one automatically waves, as though the building is surrendering.

Tomorrow we're going to London to see Muse in concert. Months ago I used my internet prowess (= I clicked my mouse repeatedly) to get some pre-sale tickets and actually I think it sold out even that day. Muse is one of my favourite live bands, and although I can only take so much of their hystrionics on my iPod, they are stunning in concert. So I can't wait!

Moving Day

2004-12-16T09:45:00.000+01:00

We're moving today so I'll write a longer post tomorrow - maybe even as long as yesterday's post, which was almost as long as a Ramones song.

The sun is shining!

2004-12-15T10:12:00.000+01:00

Who cares if it's minus-something degrees? I'm going outside to sing and run through the mountains. Yes, I know Berlin is completely flat so I'll...run through the molehills.

The Christmas Party

2004-12-14T10:53:00.000+01:00

There were only six of us, all freelancers writing for the same publication, so the chances of me drinking too much and embarrassing myself were reduced (slightly).

We met at a bar that used to be a hair salon in the GDR days, a big glass box on a big, loud avenue called Karl Marx Allee, which used to be Stalin Allee when the Wall was still up. I got there first and the man at the door told me they weren't opening for another half hour, and no, I couldn't wait inside away from the -5 degree night because he "had cleaning to do".

Luckily the others showed up in minutes, and while we tried not to die of cold and discuss where to go, a woman approached us cautiously.

"Gu-ten A-bend," she ventured in a German accent.

"Guten Abend," we chorused, all from NZ, Australia, England and Scotland respectively.

She paused. "Bon-jour," she tried.

"Bonjour," we all said.

She paused, then rattled off in German that she was meeting a woman called Catherine. Since I was the only female there, and my name isn't Catherine, she was asking the wrong people.

She finished off in English. "Okay, thank you, and have a pleasant stay in Berlin!" She vanished. We all laughed. At 18 months, my time in Berlin was the shortest of the group and the longest was almost 40 years, hardly a "stay".

Anyway, it was a busy road and our bar options were limited. We settled on the only other option, a bar called Albert's and all that name entails, before heading back to the ex-hair salon, which was way cooler, as soon as it opened.

I had a great time. From drinking red wine for the first time since an unfortunate encounter a few months ago with the cheapest, shittiest red wine you can imagine (and the stoned barman didn't help matters by adding lemon slices and ice), to meeting some pretty damn impressive journalists who have worked for major UK newspapers, Time magazine and many others. Some of them had been here since before 1989 and had Stasi files kept on them and were asked to spy. Madness. And they had some amazing stories, such as being strip-searched at Checkpoint Charlie when a man and his young family were off on a day-trip to Muggelsee in the East (actually, he did have some illegal money in his socks and they found it).

Talk turned to tax, which sounds like a real heart-attack inducer here (I don't earn enough money in Germany to have to pay tax, thank god, which requires filling in forms yourself and most likely ending up with days' worth of nervous tics). There was also bitchy mention of a certain magazine, which some had written for for a paltry sum and is edited by people who don't speak English as a first language, making the articles often a bit baffling to read. Other than that we talked about the Queen, Australiasian politics, and what to do if you get bitten by a funnel-web spider and only have 45 minutes to live. I really enjoyed talking to them and it made it suddenly more real that I'm leaving soon and won't see them again.

I forgot what a charmed life I'm leading at the moment when 9pm came and they all rushed off because they had work in the morning. So I wandered back towards Alexanderplatz to catch the U-Bahn and grabbed the compulsory doner kebab.

Stubbed Out

2004-12-13T09:21:00.000+01:00

I support the new law that's just been passed in NZ, which states that no one may smoke in bars. I used to smoke in bars sometimes, partly because the combination of alcohol and cigarettes is just too tempting, but also because I figured, well, I was breathing in all this smoke anyway, and went home feeling like I'd smoke a whole pack and stunk of it, so why not. It will be strange when I go back to see what a smokefree bar is actually like.

Apparently, and I hadn't considered this, but when you remove smoke from a bar all the other unpleasant odours make themselves known - sweaty men and farting, for example. Yuck!

We have caved in and decided to go to London for New Year. We'll be here for Xmas, but have more friends in London to celebrate with :) Everyone I know here is heading off somewhere too, so it would have been a bit quiet and I hear that people spend the night just randomly throwing around fireworks and burning each other, which doesn't sound that great.

Tickets booked

2004-12-12T13:55:00.000+01:00

It's official - I'm leaving Berlin on January 13th and flying back to NZ. Not forever, but definitely for a while. My visa here still has a few more months validity, but the cold weather won't let up until April at least, and this perpetual darkness and greyness is not good for me actually doing stuff. Because I'm a freelancer I set my own work schedule, and although I am still working away I let myself sleep too long and muck around.

So I do feel sad to be leaving - there are so many things I'll miss and I don't think it will hit me until I go - but it feels like the right decision.

Also we move in a few days' time and our new flat (shock, horror) won't have either wireless or DSL so I won't be posting every day. What I'll probably do is write a bunch of stuff at home and then upload it from, erm, Starbucks, which has wireless. I'm not male so won't have to worry about my laptop reducing my fertility.

Film

2004-12-11T18:08:00.000+01:00

My faith in humanity, which has been somewhat shaken lately with grumpy people barging into each other on the street to get out of the cold faster, was restored a bit today. A tram driver stopped after passing the stop I was trying to get to and let me in, just so I could get away from the -1 degree C day (at midday, the allegedly warmest time). Sometimes people simply do something nice. Maybe it has something to do with heightened Xmas goodwill. Or maybe he was simply feeling all warm inside from drinking the Glühwein which is everywhere at the moment.

A few posts ago I talked about outdoor ice-skating. If you like having a cold bum you can also go to Potsdamer Platz, the former No-Man's Land now filled with modern buildings, and go careening down a snowy slope on a rubber tyre surrounded by dance music. Actually it looked fun, but the slope was too short to get any real momentum going. Instead I ate a very lemony and sugary crepe and went to see The Incredibles, the new Pixar movie. It was showing at Cinemaxx, Berlin's biggest and most commercial cinema, but because I was seeing it in English the cinema was tiny. (I don't have anything against German movies, just dubbed ones, although I'll go and see a dubbed Spanish movie or something if it's the only way I can see it here).

The Incredibles was good, if formulaic and over-hyped. But I'm most looking forward to seeing Finding Neverland and Lemony Snicket's Blah Blah, which I'll have to see in London when I go there next week.

TV

2004-12-10T11:02:00.000+01:00

I have become hopelessly addicted to an American show called Lost. I can watch it only by downloading it every Thursday and each episode passes all too quickly, raising more questions than it has answered. I think part of what is so appealing about it is the whole being-lost-on-an-island fantasy, with other people who all happen to be young and good-looking. Kate, for example, is surrounded by Jack, a handsome, clean-cut and good doctor (that Party of Five guy), and Sawyer, a handsome bad-boy, bedraggled and blonde. Which one does she like best? Or can she have both?
There's more than the show to this, though. Every episode a character has a flashback so you can see what they were like in the "real world" and what some of their secrets are. Very addictive.

Other than that I have to confess to: Desperate Housewives (which looks crap but has moments of comic genius), Scrubs, the Daily Show and The Apprentice.

Then there is German TV, which I don't get to see too much of, but it's pretty crap. Dubbed American reject programmes from the '80s, wooden dramas, terrible talk-shows that make Jerry Springer look thoughtful and authentic. They do have good wildlife documentaries though.

Their show Big Boss, which is Germany's answer to America's The Apprentice ("You're fired!"), even has the same music and formula. The characters are more human though, and much more air-time is dedicated to figuring out exactly why a team lost a task, rather than amping up the bitching sequences.

Juice and ice...but not together

2004-12-08T17:00:00.000+01:00

The man at our local bottle store is quite a character, and damn if he doesn't know what he's doing. The first time I ever met him I was buying some orange juice and he proceeded to advise me carefully as though I were buying a car, about what was best value and healthiest in the long run, etc. Whenever I go there he tallies up my purchases like a professional salesman: "ONE bottle of sugar-free-and-very-healthy orange juice, TWO bottles of extremely-healthy-and-remember-to-shake-the-bottle-
before-you-open-it tomato juice, ONE bottle of-fine-red-wine-don't-drink-it-
all-at-once-you'll-regret-it-in-the-morning."

At Alexanderplatz they've set up an ice-skating rink outside, and tonight I watched enviously as all the kids skated effortlessly round, the black sky overhead, fake Xmas trees all around, the TV tower looking over them. I have ice-skated (in NZ, in the country's one indoor rink) twice in my life and spent more time on my ass than my feet, but maybe if I'd had a bit more practice...anyway, it's fun. Apparently here when the lakes freeze over in winter you can ice-skate on the surface, which must be amazing. I'd love to do that if there was a metal rail to hold onto ;) Although apparently every year some people fall through the ice and die, which wouldn't be fun at all.

Don't wave your stick at me, sir

2004-12-07T20:30:00.000+01:00

Went to see a movie called Rhythm Is It today, it was actually a pretty good documentary about the conductor of the Berliner Philharmonie, Sir Simon Rattle, who takes on a project prepping some disadvantaged high school students for a performance. Along the way he talked about how passionate music makes him. I saw him conducting a few months ago and it would be fair to say he goes into his own universe when waving his stick about (oh, you know what I mean). Apparently his fluffy grey hair and wild mannerisms have earned him a few groupies, too. I didn't know there were groupies in the classical world, but when he's running on and off the stage for his first, second and third encore, then blowing kisses and accepting flowers, it's a sign there's a rock star in there somewhere. He just lacks that crowd-surfing spontaneity...

It looks like we'll have to move out of this flat a few days earlier, due to the landlord being a bit flaky. Oh well, we already have somewhere else to go - a flat in Oranienburgerstrasse in Mitte, furnished for short-term, some sort of inaccurate "Japanese concept" decor that had my Japanese friend in hysterics when I was explaining it to her (I'll describe it when we've moved).

Would you like some English with that?

2004-12-05T11:44:00.000+01:00

I was back in our local coffee shop (see the Final Solution post below) this morning. These coffee places seem to be springing up everywhere and have muffins, bagels, all the usual American stuff. English menu, too. It always feels a bit redundant to say, "Ein double latte to go, bitte". But they make damn good coffee...

But something was different today. Although the guys who work there pretty much always talk to us in English, they were talking to EACH OTHER in English, too. It makes me wonder sometimes why I bothered to learn German if English is taking over, but I find learning new languages fun - unless that language is Japanese. Impossible. Anyway, one guy was saying, "I might go to Bridget Jones tonight, if I can convince the other fags to go with me". (All the people who work there seem to be gay, or maybe they just have good taste in clothes.)

About the whole talking in English thing. Sometimes my boyfriend will attempt some German and get a reply in English. I don't think he really cares, but I get annoyed when it happens to me. It makes me feel like my German is too crap to bother responding to, although they probably don't mean it that way. But if I don't speak German to Germans, where can I speak it?

Yesterday I went with a friend to the Pergamon museum, one of Berlin's most famous museums on Museum Island in town. I hadn't been there for five years and had forgotten how amazing it was. It doesn't just have a few old broken bits of ancient Greek vases (although I'm a bit of a geek and love ancient Greek stuff), it has entire gateways and alters from Greece and modern-day Turkey and Iraq.

On the one hand, I question the morals behind nabbing other countries' relics and carting them home, but on the other hand it's educating people, so...

As we went outside the sun was setting (yes, at 4pm). The sun had shown itself for a few minutes, for the first time in weeks, and the sunset was a deep pink. Sadly, I didn't have my camera and my friend's pxt phone was crap, but it was really beautiful, take my word for it ;)

From beer and culture to sushi and sexy

2004-12-04T19:54:00.000+01:00

Tonight I had a wander through the Kulturbrauerei, which is round the corner. The building is made of brick and occupies a whole block. It used to be a brewery (and its basement was a torture chamber at some point too) but is now filled with cinemas, theatres and clubs. There's a huge courtyard in the middle which is currently occupied by, you guessed it, a Xmas market. It also had one of those harness trampoline things for kids where they get strapped in and jump really high. You could see anxious parents' heads bobbing up and down just to make sure their darlings weren't propelled into the stratosphere.

Because it's winter now, all of the many little kids in the area are wrapped up so much that it's kind of hard to tell if there's a real kid inside all those layers.

We went to a nearby Indian restaurant for dinner. Since I last lived here five years ago there's a lot more international food available in Berlin, even if it's not always authentic enough for people who are fussier than me. Sushi, for example, is everywhere now and it used to be hard to find. It's still expensive though. And I miss that whole sitting on a beach in New Zealand eating fresh fish and chips thing. Or as we call it, fush and chups. A very handsome Spanish man once told me that my New Zealand accent was the sexiest accent in the world and I still cling to that, even if it was a line.

Reading for pleasure

2004-12-03T16:07:00.000+01:00

I did something this Friday afternoon I hadn't done for ages - went into a bookshop and just hung out for awhile flicking through books. I could spend all day doing that. And I bought my first English book in ages called The Da Vinci Code, which I've heard a lot about including that it's going to be made into a movie starring Tom Hanks (of course). I've read a lot of German books over the last few months, which helped my German and was interesting, but there's nothing like curling up with a book in your native language and just switching off the outside world.

Speaking of which, today has been the trillionth hazy day in a row, with a high of 5 degrees C and pitch black as I look outside now at 16:10. Although Mystery Man across the road, whom I've mentioned in a previous post, has strung up some fairy lights and stuck some Santa candles in the window. Aaahh.

Please don't hurt my coffee

2004-12-02T13:07:00.000+01:00

Boyfriend walks into his regular coffee shop to get coffee

Boyfriend: Ich hätte gern... (I'd like...)

Coffeeshop Guy (Interrupting in English): Sure, a big latte to go. Hey, do you use our coffee cards?

B: Yeah, but they're at home and I always forget to bring them.

CG: Okay, just bring them all in one day and we'll organise some kind of Final Solution...

Final Solution?? Obviously a translation gone awry, but these are two words that should not be bandied about in Germany!

Phoning Home

2004-12-02T11:04:00.000+01:00

Just made a call back to NZ to a friend. Times have changed, in that it doesn’t cost the earth to call NZ from Germany anymore, but that reliable crackling and delay is still there. The worst is when there’s feedback and you can hear your own voice in your ear. Painful!
There is also the time difference to grapple with, although it’s 12 hours at the moment so not too hard for my numerically-challenged brain to handle. Sometimes people call us at 2am, forgetting there’s even such a thing as a time difference.
I can’t imagine living overseas before the internet, when letters would take months to travel back and forth, often via unnecessary places such as Uganda before they made it. Before the aeroplane is also unthinkable – when people would travel by ship, like their mail. Although my boyfriend’s parents met on a ship heading overseas, so maybe it wasn’t all bad...

The visa clock is ticking

2004-11-30T17:01:00.000+01:00

I had a work meeting today which basically consisted of drinking coffee in a cafe. The guy I was meeting with is someone I've been writing for for six months but never met, even though we're in the same city. Ah, the cold, impersonal nature of the internet...

He was surprised to hear that I can't really stay in Germany for too much longer, because I
a)am not married to a German
b)do not have a parent or grandparent who was born in Europe (dammit!)
c)am not sponsored by a company to work here full-time (I live in the flighty, wacky world of freelancing)
d)don't really want to live and work here illegally, only to have the German police barge into my apartment at 6am ready to deport me on the next plane (really, they are a lot stricter and I have heard of people being deported)

I worked illegally last time I lived here, because there were no working holiday visas for NZers then. But unless I suddenly fall for a man named Hans, or get sponsored by Deutsch Coca Cola or something, I might be out of here in the next few months. Which would be sad, but I've still got some time to figure it out. And I know I'll come back at some point, too. I can't be kiwiinberlin without being here, kiwiinnewzealnd just sounds redundant. Though maybe it's time for a sequel - kiwiinnewyork? kiwiinspace?

Illegal working in German is called Schwarzarbeit, or working black. I like that - sounds like you are a batman-type figure, cloaked in mystery, flying around town and always out of the grip of Policeman Plodd or whichever bumbling cop is on your tracks.

Lesbian Horror in Cologne

2004-11-29T16:49:00.000+01:00

I went to Cologne expecting a big cathedral, pretty Christmas markets and to catch up with a friend (Hi John). I was not expecting the mass slaughter of lesbians in the middle of nowhere.

But then we ended up going to Make a Wish, one of the funniest movies I’ve seen in a while. Its measly rating of 3/10 on IMDb.com cemented our determination to see it. The appalling acting (imagine a beefy guy trying to say “What the Hell?” but in a complete monotone), horror clichés taken to bizarre extremes (“Oh my God, it’s the corpse of our friend in the tree! Okay, run down alone to the lake and fetch some water”) and a cop who’s hunting for a killer but seems to prefer sleeping in the open fields instead of following anguished screams. The only drawback for the males who accompanied me was the fact that the lesbian sex scenes had regular-looking people in them and not Swedish models. Oh well.

Apart from Lesbian Death Camp, I also make it to an Edward Hopper exhibition, and, after manoeuvring my way through the scrum of tourists, also saw some actual paintings too.

And Cologne was overflowing with more Xmas markets. It would be easy to get fat just by hanging round these markets all day and munching on waffles, crepes, toffee apples, sausages...mmm.

Christmas Market Pics

2004-11-25T11:56:00.000+01:00

They didn't turn out so great, so I'm keeping them small. The last one is me on Unter den Linden, with all the lights in the trees (see post below).

Christmas Market #1

2004-11-24T20:35:00.000+01:00

Tonight I went to my first ever Christmas market (Weihnachtsmarkt). It was 0 degrees Celsius, and everyone was wrapped up in hats, coats, scarves and gloves, sipping glühwein (a hot red wine with sugar and spices) from little cups outside huts decorated with fairy lights. Carols in English and German were blaring from lit-up fairground rides, ranging from the tame but large ferris wheel to the rides where teens were screaming and staggering off afterwards. Game stalls were set up, where you could fish for plastic ducks, throw balls at stacked-up cans or fling darts at a board. Huge fluffy toys were displayed, but most kids got the consolation lollypop. People munched on roasted nuts, toffee apples, candyfloss and, yes, half-metre long sausages. Little kids rushed around in a frenzy of sugar-heightened excitement as parents struggled to hold them and their glühwein simultaneously.

This was on Unter den Linden and a mixture of a fairground and traditional Christmas markets. People in little huts sold candles galore, hand-made gloves, model cottages. Decorated trees were every few metres. Back out on the main street, every bare tree was filled with fairy lights all the way up to Brandenburg Gate and punctuated by the odd star.

I went on some of the traditional rides and of course ate all the food I could, but the best part was a ride that had a guy dancing on the roof, and he was dancing so well that at first I actually thought he was a robot. This ride promised “something different”, so we put on the provided psychedelic glasses and stumbled in.

What followed could only be described by people who have taken too many magic mushrooms. When you took the glasses off, each room looked like a few glow in the dark stars had been thrown around, but with the glasses on, it looked amazing. I had no idea which way to go and kept bumping into walls, getting tangled up in multicoloured plastic rods and one room was how things might look if I’d just been hit in the face. I’m making this sound horrible, but actually it was great! At the end there’s a room where there were fake spiders and webs etc, and what looked to be a model skeleton, but he was real and jumped out to scare the shit out of me. Best fairground “trip” ever.

Will upload some pics of the market tomorrow.

Hellos and Goodbyes

2004-11-23T20:03:00.000+01:00

Today I had one last lunch with Yoko and Suah, who’s flying back to Korea on Friday. Sometimes it’s strange to have friends who I’ve never spoken to in English, but it’s a sign that my German’s improved, I guess. Suah comes and goes from Berlin for visa reasons and kind of juggles two lives. I love Berlin, and have come and gone myself a few times, but I’d find that too tiring.

On another topic, I got an email yesterday from an old friend – kind of complicated. He’s Australian but we met in Berlin in 2000 and were pretty much best friends. I was in a long-distance relationship at the time, and nothing happened (really – I surprised even myself), but we were close and even though we haven’t seen each other for a few years, I still consider him a good friend. He’s only going to be here over Xmas for a few days which is probably a good thing because unsurprisingly, things are pretty tense between him and my boyfriend when they see each other. So I’m looking forward to seeing him, in a careful sort of way.

Bulls knockin’ on my door

2004-11-22T14:00:00.000+01:00

They found me. I don’t know how, but they found me. This is a geeky, slightly embarrassing reference to Back to the Future, but it also kind of applies to the policeman who paid me a visit last night. Luckily, it was our landlord who he wanted, who owed some money for some highway incident (speeding?) or something, but anyway the words “Good evening, police, open the door please” in Germany is something I always dread. Not because I’ve really done anything wrong – the odd mild drug, sinful thought or a bit of downloading are what I’d confess to if I was a Catholic – but it’s just that paranoid, made-for-TV-inspired fear that makes me quake a bit whenever one of those gun-toting men in green gets too close.

I’ve already briefly mentioned in a previous post how an army of them marched towards me at the Love Parade, and I may have also said how a friend of mine was arrested at a May Day protest and went through hell in the German courts to finally be found not guilty of throwing stones at a cop. Known as “Die Bullen” (the bulls, as opposed to the pigs), German police are not friendly or helpful. In fact, it’s best to keep out of their way. Even if you haven’t done anything wrong.

The one who knocked on the door last night was a typical model – brown moustache, slightly plump. He looked like the plastic policeman I had as a kid that squeaked when I squeezed its tummy. I wasn’t about to squeeze this guy. I hastily dialled my landlord and let him do the talking as I silently prayed we wouldn’t be evicted or lightly thrashed. We weren’t, so perhaps I should relax. But as a foreigner it’s easy to overreact sometimes when you’re not sure what’s going to happen.

Die Prüfung ist vorbei

2004-11-20T15:39:00.000+01:00

Thank God that's over, it was no fun. Luckily they told us our results today so I know I passed and don't have to wait to find out. A few people failed...the hardest part was the listening test, where we had to listen to some guy who might or might not have been from Austria, but anyway his rich dialect was very different from the hard Berlin dialect, or as it's so prettily called, Berliner Schnauze or Berlin Snout. Is that any relation to Pig Latin? Uten-gay Ag-tay.

It also didn't help that three mobile phones rang during the exam - three mind-alteringly annoying rings, too. Why do people leave their phones on? Do they really need the attention? One poor stressed-out girl turned around and roared (in English, actually): "Turn your fucking phones off!" (No, it wasn't me.)

So I go in and pick up my certificate next week. Supposedly this means that I can now speak advanced German. Wunderbar.

Blogging is paused for this announcement:

2004-11-14T15:59:00.000+01:00

I have a two-day German exam on Friday and Saturday. That means until then I am going to try to see no English, speak no English and hear no English (evil is fine). So that means cutting myself off from most of the internet. :(

Thank you for your understanding and please feel free to surf gently through blog archives in my absence.

PS Berlin offers many famous winter activites, but I didn't realise this shopping mall event was one of them...Read the below promotion and see if you can spot what was somehow lost in translation:

Europa Center during Christmas

Especially in winter time the shopping mall attracts many people by presenting several highlights. For its guests there will be 40 funny gnomes sawing, hammering and screwing while Santa Claus looks forward to meeting you in the atrium, where you have the chance to take a picture with him.

Let it Snow

2004-11-13T17:16:00.000+01:00

I was in the Historisches Museum today looking at some old photographs when all of a sudden out the window the blue sky was covered by dark, purply-looking clouds and it started to snow! Admittedly most of it was rain and the snow bit didn't last long, but it fell and clumped together on the glass ceiling of the museum's new extension wing. Very cool. Snow is one of the rare upsides of winter, along with hot soups and baths.

The Mystery Man in his Mystery Flat

2004-11-12T10:15:00.000+01:00

I should write about the apartment block across the road, right opposite the window that I look out when I’m procrastinating. It’s one of the old buildings, patchy and filled with bullet holes. Yes, real bullet holes from the war. Some of the windows are boarded up and it reminds me a bit of Yasser Arafat’s face – old, patchy, bumpy, extremely unattractive.

It looks like no one lives there in its four dark, quiet floors. But someone does. Not a homeless squatter or anything. The top floor has electricity and a satellite dish stuck outside one of the windows. In summer, the windows were always open and occasionally a guy would lean out and smoke his breakfast cigarette in the sun. We’d wave at each other if I was sitting on the balcony.

I still wonder about this man. Why does he live in an old, dilapidated, frankly haunted-looking building? (I don’t believe in ghosts, but I would never live there). Does he sleep well at night, thinking about the three abandoned floors below him?

I must admit, a friend and I had had a few drinks one night and tried to get in the front door and have a peek round (the building, not his apartment). But it wasn’t one of those obliging doors that just swings open when you give it a gentle kick, so we got nowhere.

At the rate cranes are swinging their way through Berlin, this building will be gone in a few years, or at least remodelled so it’s white and fresh, with all floors in use.

Coal for Christmas

2004-11-11T09:27:00.000+01:00

A friend of a friend is unfortunate enough to have Ofenheizung – coal heating. Most people in the East had coal heating before the Wall came down, apparently, maybe in the West too. It basically meant you had to get up early in the winter, in the cold and dark, and fetch coal from the cellar to heat your apartment. This was a heavy, dirty chore, and then you’d have to wait hours for the room to heat up. Brr! This would be repeated at the end of the day, when the house was stone-cold again.

This may sound like an episode of Survivor, but no, some people still have this kind of heating – either because their apartment hasn’t been renovated yet, or simply because they voluntarily live in a flat with Ofenheizung, like my old German teacher. He liked the traditional aspect of it. I didn’t ask if he also hunted sheep for their wool or mammoths. That would have been rude. And he seemed content.

But this friend of a friend, who we’ll call Hans, definitely isn’t content. “One more winter,” he threatens, but never quite makes it. “I avoid him between October and March,” my friend admitted. “He’s grumpy between those months. And no one stays with him then, because it’s freezing inside, and then he gets grumpier and wants to know why no one’s visiting him.”

Hans is missing out on central heating, which most flats here now have, thank God, and inside is warm and toasty, way warmer than inside NZ houses, even though the winters there are milder. In fact, it’s so toasty in Berlin flats that the first time I lived here I forgot that it was winter outside and wandered out in a t-shirt. It was a short-lived excursion...

Fall of the (real) Wall remembered

2004-11-10T11:45:00.000+01:00

Yesterday was the 15th anniversary of the Berlin Wall coming down. Or at least people being allowed to climb over it. It was more a day of reflection than celebration, though. Germany still has a lot of problems and people talk about the “Mauer im Kopf” or “Wall in the head” still exisiting.
It’s also the anniversary of Kristallnacht, or the Night of Broken Glass, when Jewish shops and synagogues were openly destroyed by Nazi supporters. So I guess it’s more appropriate to keep the day quiet, and it seemed to be about honouring those who died trying the escape the East more than anything. Anyway, I though this Guardian article was good and this Spiegel article (in English) had some points, even if it was a bit flip in making them.
Fifteen years ago I was 11 years old, and admittedly not too clued up when it came to world affairs. I can't claim to have been in Berlin on that memorable day and I didn't leap on a plane to at least be part of the moment a few days late. You won't see my excited face in those photos of people dancing on the Wall. Hey, I had school to think about (school being the place where they taught no European history).
All I can remember about November '89 is my mother glued to the TV saying, "Shona, it's a historic event, the Wall is coming down!" I knew about something called the Berlin Wall but that was about as far as my expertise went.
My father, on the other hand, was in Berlin in the late 1970s and saw both East and West. As I was a baby, he brought me a German teddy bear home. Maybe that's why I feel a bond with Germany.

Cold!

2004-11-09T09:37:00.000+01:00

Okay, I know it will get colder, but it’s a bit of a shock dealing with the upcoming winter. Last time I lived here I arrived in January, and everything seemed new and interesting, even the cold, dark days. It was also a bonus to see the days getting warmer and the leaves growing again.
This time is a bit different, because I’m doing things the other way around, and the honeymoon period is over. And at this time of year, it’s easy just to curl up in bed for four months with a Do Not Disturb sign on the door. Motivation to go outside goes way down, as it’s only light for about six hours and that light is pale and usually covered by clouds.
In Europe, and in England especially because the weather’s almost always crap, they have something called SADD, or Seasonal Affective Disorder. We don’t have that in NZ. It can get pretty cold down south, and there’s some great skiing, but it’s nothing like a dramatic as here. My German friends are already moaning about the cold and the dark. I’ve been advised to take herbal anti-depressants, just in case I start to go a bit mad. It’s amazing to think Norwegians come here for some respite!
Anyway, bring on the snow, I say. And it’s good to have a blog to keep me going. The comments section below is not compulsory, but I would love to hear from anyone who reads my ramblings. What do you do to keep happy when it’s c-c-c-cold?

Pass the health warning, please

2004-11-08T11:10:00.000+01:00

It’s a German law that most shops must stay closed on Sunday, which in theory is nice because it promotes a family-togetherness day, but in reality, with such a high unemployment rate, it might give a few poor people some work.

Anyway, one of the places that may stay open is a café. So on Sundays everyone and his dog either lounges outside in the sun (summer) or squeezes into a smoky table (winter) to sample an all-day brunch.

I like the brunch buffets here because I enjoy eating in general, and it’s also great to have many helpings and eat what you want. Some buffets are better than others, of course, but it’s a great way to spend a Sunday and catch up with friends.

If I had any complaint it would be the smoking. Lots of people here smoke, but when there’s no air inside and all you can smell is the smoke and it seeps through your clothes…not so appetising. But cigarettes here are pretty cheap and no one seems too worried about fatalities. Just go into a cinema and watch the ads. They range from the funny to the downright cheesy (men in silk dressing gowns surrounded by adoring women). And you can’t forget the Malborough Man, who rides off on his wheezing horse into the lung-cancer sunset (well, the original Man did, this is his replacement).

But I’m willing to brave the fog of a hundred cigarettes for that last slice of apple strudel. After all, the best things in life are generally bad for you, I’ve learned.

Thank God it’s over

2004-11-07T09:51:00.000+01:00

I spent Saturday night somewhere I usually don’t spend any time whatsoever: a church. We were invited by our landlord to a concert (he plays the violin professionally). The church is just down the road from us and so we thought, yeah, why not?

And it was very nice of him to invite us, but…the concert turned out to be a choir singing about God, Jesus and so forth for two hours. That might not sound long, but when you’re an atheist squished into a cold, hard church pew, and can’t move for fear of disturbing other people, and your behind’s rapidly losing all feeling, it ain’t so comfortable. Sometimes in life you end up applauding more out of relief that something is over rather than over the skill of the performers.

I couldn't quite grasp the fervour of the religious sentiment in the lyrics, either, but what can I say – I’m clearly not a believer. I worship Sunday lie-ins instead. But I did learn useful German words like heathen and stoning, which I’m sure will come up on a daily basis.

I also got a letter from my dad in NZ yesterday that only had an article clipping in it. It took me a second to see that it was an article I had written, about Slovenia, that was published in the Sunday Star-Times, NZ biggest Sunday paper. So that was good news and I'd had no idea because the paper didn't tell me. That happens sometimes. Lukily I have several journalist friends and also family who actually read the bylines of articles. I raved about Slovenia because it was so beautiful. Here's a pic I took:

It’s that time of year…

2004-11-06T09:58:00.000+01:00

…when the slide shows start. The first time I came to Berlin was winter 2000, and I couldn’t work out why there were posters of New Zealand everywhere. Sure, there were also a few posters of Australia, but why?
Now I know. Every year around November, as the weather gets colder and the days get shorter, it’s time to a) wheel out the Christmas decorations and b) start selling those trips to warmer climes. So tourism companies set up slide show evenings, where you show up and look at some nice photos of countries which, quite frankly, have way better weather right now than where you are.
I haven’t been to a photo evening, but I know people who have and they say the pictures are rather lovely. And they’re enough incentive for people with cold tootsies and SADD (Seasonal Affective Disorder) to book a flight and get the hell out.
Anyway, with the New Zealand posters on every street, I have a clear idea of what’s available in my homeland. There’s a big, snow-capped mountain (only capped – the snow is at a safe distance). There is a tattooed Maori warrior, who will most likely greet you at the airport and stick his tongue out in a ceremonial gesture of contempt before he escorts you to a waiting taxi (kidding…). There is a Hobbit-hole – the traditional dwelling of all New Zealanders. Or it may just be a prop left over from the Lord of the Rings movies.
Anyway, seeing these pictures always gives me a little pang of homesickness. I wonder what the hell I’m doing in this currently grey city when I could be tucked up in my cosy Hobbit-hole. But then I remind myself that tourism publicity, while semi-honest, does not paint the whole picture. For example, they left out the overcrowding that comes with so many sheep, the pall of depression that hangs over the country after the Wallabies beat the All Blacks, and of course the Orcs and trolls persecuting Frodo as he undertakes his quest to fling the Ring into Mount Doom.
Maybe that’s a poster for next year.

Snapshots

2004-11-04T14:01:00.000+01:00

We’ve had a guest from New Zealand here in Berlin for two days, so it was time to do the tour again. (These photos are his, since our allegedly flash camera broke.)

We start on Museum Island on the Spree river, looking at the museums and Berliner Dom surrounded by thinning trees. The Fernsehturm, or TV Tower, is behind it.

Unter den Linden (meaning Under the Lime Trees) comes next, the main historical street in Berlin. Wandering up you can see the old Russian embassy, the Holocaust memorial, the Historisches Museum, the site of the 1933 Nazi book burnings (currently being made into a carpark, rendering the underground memorial of empty bookshelves inaccessible), the State Library, the US embassy completely surrounded by guards and cordoned off, and finally the Brandenburg Gate at the end.

On the other side is the Berlin Wall boundary marking. Nearby is the Reichstag, with its ever-present queue of people trying to see the glass dome. On the right is Tiergarten, a quiet oasis of greenery.

On the other side is Potsdamer Platz, with its modern skyscrapers, all built from scratch when the Wall came down, and the Sony Center.

It’s only the surface attractions of what Berlin has to show, like the Eiffel Tower in Paris or Big Ben in London. But it’s a memorable walk and one I never get tired of. If we have a visitor who’s only here for a short time, it gives them an idea at least. But it doesn’t beat wandering around and discovering things by surprise. Which I still do here most days.

Guten Tag, Your Majesty

2004-11-03T11:47:00.000+01:00

This week the Queen of England is coming to Berlin on a state visit. This pending excitement has stirred up the media, especially after England’s tabloid the Daily Express said Germans were calling for an apology for World War Two bombings. This is coming from the same paper that recently said all Germans were Nazis. Nice. One German tabloid, Bild, jumped on the bandwagen and asked when she would apologise. But most German papers reacted contemptuously to the idea and said they didn’t want or need an apology. Which is lucky because I think they would be waiting a while!

Apart from that, the Queen’s visit reminds me of the time I met her in person, which was actually last time she came in 2000. I happened to be in Berlin and I happened to work for the British Council teaching English, and she came to see our new building in Hackescher Markt. The fanfare was pretty overwhelming, with big crowds and cameras and loads of scary German police. We’d all been prepped on etiquette – if you meet the Queen, call her Your Majesty and curtsey. If you shake hands, do so with limp fingers so as not to hurt her…and so on.

When she showed up, she looked even smaller than I imagined. She looked at me and asked a question, but I didn’t answer. I didn’t want to reveal my funny accent, my age, or the fact that I wasn’t working 100% legally in Germany (or even 1%). It didn’t matter – the question was a generic one and someone else answered, even remembering the “Your Majesty” bit. Jolly good.

Cold War Theme Park?

2004-11-02T10:08:00.000+01:00

On Sunday a new Berlin Wall went up outside Checkoint Charlie in Friedrichstrasse. It’s 120 metres long, white and clean. Tourists can stare and take pictures. It doesn’t divide the city, but it is divisive in terms of the reaction to it. The government is calling it a kind of Disneyland, while others criticise the government as being afraid to acknowledge the past.
Well, Berlin is becoming full of such memorials, and while I think memorials should exist to remember the past, I think the new wall is stupid. It’s for tourists, not Germans. If people want to see the Wall, why don’t they get off their asses and go and see some of the original Wall which is still standing? Why does a new one need to be built in the middle of town?

Which language is prettier?

2004-11-01T09:06:00.000+01:00

Ricarda is becoming less impressed with English the more she learns, and thinks German is a far more interesting and attractive language. So far my attempts to persuade her otherwise have failed. And it’s not an opinion I hear very often – most English people I know think German is a hideous language and associate it with Hitler standing at a podium, spittle flying and hands waving. When I was at school everyone learned French, perhaps because of a romantic association with chocolates and French men...
As a friend of mine put it who is studying German, “When you don’t understand it, it sounds like someone is angry with you. Now, I know this person is nice and is probably just talking about the weather, but it sounds a bit like he wants to hurt me.”
I know many people who love the German language and make it a lifelong goal to learn more and more. The American author Mark Twain, who wrote Tom Sawyer, Huckleberry Finn etc, wrote a whole book called The Awful German Language, but despite his frustration at how hard it is he still loved it.
But does anyone love English? Does anyone learn it for how it sounds, or just because it’s the default international language?
There was a competition in Germany (and overseas) recently to suggest the best German word. What is the best English word? Let me know what you think.

Art-de-art-art

2004-10-31T11:39:00.000+01:00

Yesterday I braved the tornado of dead leaves blowing everywhere and went to a new museum, which has all sorts of arty things. My favourite part was seeing all the old photographs of Berlin, from the 1870s to now. There was also some art painted in Berlin while the Wall was up. The art from West Berlin was colourful and cheery, while the art from East Berlin was dark, grumpy and quite violent actually. Which lead me to conclude that capitalists have way more fun than communists.

I get sick of the whole What-is-art debate, but let me just say that if it has to be explained, that’s a bad thing. It’s like having to explain a joke. The joke may have originally been funny, but when it’s explained it loses a lot of substance. That’s how I feel about modern art, too – I don’t want some placard telling me how I’m supposed to feel when I see a giant telephone or six cans of beer. I either feel something or I don’t.

And it’s amazing some of the crap that makes it on display. A few months ago in Vienna I saw a giant canvas painted black which was meant to be, wow, really original. Another painter had thrown some paint over some bad drawings and was hailed as one of the greatest artists of his generation. Now, my artistic skills are about as developed as a two-year-old before his morning coffee…meaning they’re not so hot. But I know I could have done better!

Cost of museum admission: €5
Suggested contribution to PayPal for my artistic development: €100
Feeling of satisfaction at seeing my skills flourish: Priceless

Food, leaves and scary monsters

2004-10-30T10:55:00.000+02:00

Yesterday I spent the day working on some articles I had to write. One of them was on expat food, so I made my way to a British shop and as highly professional “research” stocked up on lots of stuff. I’m not British (my great-great grandparents migrated to New Zealand in the 1800s, so no EU passport for me), but some of the food is good – for example, crisps that are not paprika-flavoured. Germans only seem to like that flavour, since that’s pretty much all you can buy.

The weather has become cold, dark and foggy most of the time, but here is a pic I took a few days ago of a cemetery-park just down the road from my flat. Isn’t it pretty?

I just scared myself shitless watching one of those videos online where a "monster" jumps out and scares you. Even though I expect it now, I still jump. The first time I saw one was early in the morning and there was a picture of a room and a caption said, "There is a ghost in this room, try and find it". So I stupidly peered at it for a few seconds, till it disappeared completely and a shrieking zombie poppped up. Here is one example.

Anyway, it's all very timely because Halloween is tomorrow. Apart from pumpkin carving, it's not such a big deal here but I will probably end up watching a horror movie or something. Any excuse... Happy Halloween! How many Americans will dress up as George W Bush this year, I wonder?

Being Beaker

2004-10-29T13:59:00.000+02:00

This has nothing to do with Berlin, but I just wanted to say that despite my hectic life as a go-getting freelance journalist, I managed to fit in a Muppet Quiz and I am officially Beaker, my favourite character (it was pretty easy, I just had to click on "Don't hurt me" for each answer). I don't think Beaker and I have too much in common except that one of my party tricks is pulling a face just like his :(

You are Beaker.
You are very tense, stressed and paranoid. You hate
furthering the cause of science, as it tends to
get you blown up.

SPECIAL TALENTS:
Scientific assistant, Victim
LAST BOOK READ:
"1001 Meeps to a Bigger Vocabulary"

FAVORITE MOVIE:
"Run Silent, Run Meep"

QUOTE:
"Meep! Meep! Meep!"

NEVER LEAVES HOME WITHOUT:
Medical Coverage

What Muppet are you?
brought to you by Quizilla

Meet the Locals

2004-10-29T13:02:00.000+02:00

There are always a few strange people in the ‘burbs. In Prenzlauer Berg I often pass some eccentrics who always wear the same clothes, just like the Simpsons. There’s Hedgehog Woman (if you’ve ever read the Beatrix Potter story Mrs Tiggy Winkle, you’d recognise elements of it in this woman’s face). It’s like Harry Potter waved his wizard and turned a hedgehog into a human being, but left elements of the hedgehog. She wears a checked blue dress. Her face is scrunched up, with a snouty nose, and she even makes little sniffy, grunty noises as she scuffles along.
A few streets away an Englishman with a very dignified accent wanders around bugging people and speaking to them in English, regardless of whether they understand him or not. "I say, kind sir, could you possibly spare 10 cents or so? That would be just lovely." I don’t know if he’s homeless or not, but he always wears a large joker’s hat and a velvet blue coat.
There are also a few famous faces. Rammstein all live around here and can be seen from time to time lounging in one of the many cafés.
One I actually encountered was Peaches, who comes from Canada but has lived here for four years or so. She’s a singer and travels round the world, but I bumped into her at my language school enrolling for level one German. That’s right, level one German, after living here for four years. It just goes to show how easily you can wrap yourself in an English-speaking society and never bother to learn the language of the country you live in. But it’s never too late to start, I guess.
Most of the people who live here have kids and they’re everywhere. They’re especially cute when the weather gets cold and they just look like a bundle of winter clothes with a tiny face peeking out. Apparently after the Wall fell all the students lived in this district and they are now young professionals (or unemployed) or still students (people seem to stay at university for about 10-20 years in Germany). Either way, it’s baby town. Something in the water?

Metropolis

2004-10-28T09:24:00.000+02:00

Last night I watched the German film Metropolis.

Aside from the fact that old silent movies are painfully slow, Metropolis was very cool. It was made for $US2 million, which in 1926 was a hell of a lot of money. It took over a year to film and has a cast of almost 40,000 people, including the main actress, who said being in it was horrible and then denied she was in it at all! With special effects in a pre-computer era and panoramic shots of a futuristic city (actually it’s set in 2000 and our buildings may not be so big, but director Fritz Lang sure got the gridlock right), it’s mighty impressive.

Apparently it was a huge flop in the late ‘20s, but it’s in IMDb’s top 100 movies of all time now and Lang also had the misfortune to capture the attention and admiration of Mr Hitler and Mr Goebbels, who were very powerful in the mid ‘30s and told Lang they wanted him to make movies for the Nazis. Sensibly, he went home, packed his bags and left the country that very same day – although it seems he left his wife behind.

Metropolis was showing in an old Berlin theatre last night, with a new music score and all. It’s about a big city that seems utopian and wonderful, but in reality is run underground by slave workers who unsurprisingly seem none too happy about the situation. At the beginning, a spoilt Daddy’s Boy stumbles upon this underground world and vows to change society. He of course falls in love with a pretty girl from the “other side” and then things are thwarted by an evil scientist with crazy hair and way, way too much eye makeup. The scientist builds a robot that will work for the minimum wage and like it, and everything builds up to a climax and a sappy ending which apparently the director hated.

Metropolis was very ahead of its time though, with massive floods, picture phones (albeit enormous ones) and futuristic skyscrapers. It also seems to predict tyrannical leaders, divided cities and reunification, which was all to come for Germany.

And that’s all I have to say about that.

Which Ping Pong player are you?

2004-10-27T13:00:00.000+02:00

A popular summer/autumn/spring activity (winter's too cold and icy) in Berlin is outdoor ping pong, and there are tables everywhere. Armed with two paddles and a ball, it’s free and easy to play. But it can be a testing time for friendships and a telling look at personalities. Some people hit the ball twice and wander off bored, others get wacky and try all sorts of bizarre manoeuvres, and some are the worst: the competitive ping pong players.
Now, I know ping pong has risen in status to become an international sport, but come on! That doesn’t mean you have to suck all the fun out of the game by being a John McEnroe.
“You CAN’T be serious! You gotta hit the ball on my side…no, it’s my serve! Nooooo!”
There is a queue of young kids waiting for the table, but we are at a crucial tie of 12-14 and Competitive Ping Pong Player will not relinquish his place. “That was in, right?” he asks a puzzled three-year-old who is eating her paddle.
Anyway, mostly ping pong is a fun game with a very peaceful “ping pong” sound accompaniment. And when you get to know the city, you can leave the queues for a table behind and discover the more secret places.
Example: Around the corner on Kastanienallee is a building which looks just like any other building. But when you walk through the door into the courtyard, you see it carries on into many more courtyards like some optical illusion-ish Escher painting, leading on ad finitum in front of you. Well, there are six of them, anyway. Walking through, you eventually come to a secret-ish park with a playing area for kids surrounded by rubble from the Prussian King Friedrich’s castle, which was blown up near Alexanderplatz decades ago. And next to that stands a smooth, empty ping pong table. Fancy a game?

Rammstein - unafraid of noise

2004-10-26T11:58:00.000+02:00

I’ve mentioned Rammstein in an earlier post – they’re one of Germany’s more famous exports, an eccentric hard rock/very hard rock band, singing in German. Which is rare – there’s no on-air quota here for German music, sadly for local bands. But Rammstein have marketed themselves with gargantuan pomposity and simple but impressive-sounding lyrics (if you don’t speak German).
They made it big overseas in the late ´90s, thanks to a few soundtracks like David Lynch’s Lost Highway. Every now and then they put out a new album such as this year’s Reise Reise, which includes the songs Amerika, a sarcastic take on the USA’s global dominance and tendency to invade other countries, and Mein Teil, a comment on the German cannibal case that was in court earlier this year.
I saw them in concert twice in New Zealand and they were received positively, if with a little head-scratching. The indoor pyrotechnics, silver costumes, sunglasses and inflatable dinghy for crowdsurfing added to the bemusement.
Their lyrics are simple and can either be viewed as lame or genius. One of my teachers thought the latter - he used one song as an example, Du Hast Mich (You have me), which when you hear it can mean Du Hasst Mich (You Hate Me), until he sings “Du hast mich gefragt”, which means “You asked me”. Yup, pure genius. Perhaps my teacher was biased by the fact that he knew the bass player. Anyway, I was impressed by the words before I understood them and now I find them amusing. It’s good listening practice, though.
Example from an oldish song, Bestrafe Mich:
Bestrafe mich
bestrafe mich
du meinst ja
und ich denk nein
schließ mich ein in dein Gebet
bevor der Wind noch kälter weht
Means:
Punish me
punish me
you mean yes
and I think no
include me in your prayers
before the wind blows even colder
Rammstein are not afraid to tackle the awkward issues, whether they be sado-masochism, incest, America, cannibalism. What an export.
But mostly German prefer to import, and most of the songs on the radio come from the US. Others prefer World Music. Some theorists believe this stems from some kind of cultural cringe. Attempts this year to introduce a music quota (France has a 40% local content quota, for example) were shouted down by accusations that people wanted to hijack the airwaves and constrain Germany’s media freedoms. “We’ve had limitations on what we could and couldn’t play before, when Goebbels was Minister of Propaganda during the Nazi era,” some said. “Do we really want to have that again?”
So that doesn’t look like changing anytime soon. But it has to be said, when a country embraces David Hasselhof as a singing sensation, perhaps radio restrictions would be in the people’s best interests!

Living in a (fake) Germany

2004-10-25T11:45:00.000+02:00

Everyone is familiar with the reality TV show Big Brother, or as many Germans call it, "Big Bruzza". Well, that show will now be going one step further in Germany, with a Truman Show-like town being set up and all the characters being – allegedly – willing participants.
You can read the Guardian article here.
I could write an entire thesis on this whole concept, but suffice it to say that I find it just typical that first of all, George Orwell wrote a book (1984) about a nightmarish concept which shook many people to the core. However, TV producers saw money potential and made a show about it. And it worked. People loved the voyeurism of it. Next, a film was made (The Truman Show) showing how reality TV could go too far, making Truman an innocent victim of media moguls. But a German media company has also seen the financial potential in this idea and they’re probably right.
The show is planned to last decades, if not forever and ever and ever. A special town outside of Hamburg is being built and the producers say its participants will know it’s just a show. Well, maybe at first, but if they’re in it long enough won’t the boundaries of real life and entertainment become even more blurred? And will prospective children of unions on the show know that they’re the offspring of the show as much as of their own parents?
I find the idea schrecklich. But then, this is a country of often bizarre ideas - for example, the longest ever piece of music is being played here over a period of 639 years (the music itself is not very long, they’re just dragging it out).

Gnome Alone

2004-10-24T09:23:00.000+02:00

A few streets away is an apartment opposite one of the best pizza places in Berlin. What makes it stand out, though, is that popping out of its East German facade are many, many gnomes. One could almost call them a Rainbow of Gnomes because you can see them from down the street. Who lives in this flat? A mad old lady who has sacrificed her precious balcony space to small plastic people? Here is a pic:

It always brightens up my day when I see them.
But this person is lucky to even have a balcony. Not everyone does. And no one in central Berlin has their own garden - well, very rarely. Most just stare out their windows to see someone across doing the same thing. That's why people are always heading to the parks so their kids can play in a sandpit, they can sit on a bench and relax or run around with their (big) dogs.
A friend of mine lived in a flat in Pankow where the coutryard was an enormous jungle in summer, teeming with rabbits and cats. Not far from her were boarded up GDR houses with overgrown gardens and odd statues covered in moss. A shame, these wasted spaces of greenery.

Got a Train to Catch

2004-10-23T11:44:00.000+02:00

There’s no such thing as catching the train alone in Berlin. It’s like a short film with extras whose names you don’t know, but who regularly pop up during the journey.

The scene opens before I even reach the platform of Eberswalde Straße, a stop north on the U2 line. At the bottom of the stairs waits an expressionless Vietnamese man in a blue jacket and cap. He is a member of what’s known as the Cigarette Mafia, people who illegally sell cheap and poor quality cigarettes. The police know what’s going on so he stands empty-handed and simply waits. It reminds me of Waiting for Godot, but occasionally he is diverted by a customer, who he then leads to his car a short distance away and a transaction takes place. Why Vietnamese? Apparently the former East Germany shipped over a bunch of Vietnamese in the ‘70s to work cheaply in factories, and this is how it’s ended up. I have never bought his cigarettes.

Past the Cigarette Mafia are the punks with enormous German shepherds. “Do you maybe have a few cents?” they ask everyone scurrying by. No one does. Sometimes the punks sigh or swear in frustration.

At the top of the stairs are the ticket machines, and nearby a ticket scalper. Someone earlier in their day has tossed him their unwanted ticket(s) and now he’s selling them for a reduced price. It’s usually a day ticket and a good deal.

Unless it’s a Sunday or late at night, it’s never more than a few minutes’ wait on the platform for a train. The U2 line is a good one, passing through Zoo Station, where the tourists come and go again, Alexanderplatz, where the Death Star/TV tower is, and Potsdamer Platz, which was a central district, then bombed during the war, then turned into a No-Man’s Land while the Wall was up, then transformed into an internationally recognised site of modern architecture after it fell.

The train comes. “Get on please” announces the voice….then “Stay back please” as the doors shut again. We’re off. More often than not there’ll be a ticket inspector who jumps up like the FBI to surprise the passengers. Inspector is Kontrolleur in German and so in English everyone ends up saying “a controller was on the train,” or “I got controlled”.

So the controller’s job is to nab anyone without a ticket. I love this honour system, it’s far more entertaining than the automated barriers of London’s Underground. In order to catch us by surprise, the controller wears a disguise and gets on and off at random stops. He or she can be wearing a suit, or jeans and sneakers, or a floral dress (the females) or be spiky-haired like a punk. Sometimes they carry a drink and seem to be chatting carelessly with friends, only to jump up when the train starts moving.

There is always someone without a ticket, who gets unceremoniously carted off at the next station and has to pay a €40 fine. It’s usually easy to spot a ticketless person because they stand near the door and observe everyone suspiciously. I have friends who never buy a ticket and usually get away with it, and have done it myself sometimes, but it’s not worth the stress.

Once the controller has disappeared, there is usually a busker who jumps on and plays some crap for little money. Or a homeless man selling the magazine whose profits help the homeless. People usually dish out for him.

Finally, on each train line is an eccentric character who everyone knows and loves. On one line is a man who wears a yellow raincoat and white abbatoir boots and sings. On the U2 line is another man who honestly believes that he works for the train company, stands by the door and announces all destinations before the automated machine gets a chance, and he knows them just as well, even down to the temporary transport that day because a line is down. Eg: “Next stop Alexanderplatz, change here for the S5, the S6 and the S8, and for the U8, for the trams and regional lines.” He recites it perfectly and with absolute pride. Nobody except for the newbies raises an eyebrow. And so the U2 rumbles on under the streets of Berlin.

Painting and police

2004-10-22T13:39:00.000+02:00

I’ve got a flash new camera and yesterday I wandered round Prenzlauerberg taking what look to be very good photos, far more thanks to the camera than my skills as a photographer. Anyway, it was a rare sunny and warm-ish day, after a mini-typhoon in the morning that scattered dead leaves everywhere (and a few old ladies). So Berlin was looking very fetching. Here’s a picture of Berlin in autumn, in Helmholzplatz late afternoon.

This weekend I plan on taking many more, depending on the weather.
I made a stop on the way at a café/art workshop place called sisters, where you choose some crockery and then paint it yourself, they bake it and you pick it up a few days later. It had been about 50 years since I sat down and painted, which is a shame because painting is so relaxing and fun. It didn’t even matter that my cup, which was supposed to show Berlin in all four seasons, ended up looking like some five-year-old on LSD had attacked it with painbrushes.
When we got home there was an incident outside where two men were fighting on the street. One looked really scruffy and was trying to get away and I think he might have stolen something. He was shouting something over and over, but it wasn’t German. Anyway, soon there was a crowd of people and someone called the police, who of course showed up (five of them) very efficiently and hurled the poor guy off to the station.
I dread the police here, partly because of their military-style uniform (although that’s changing, according to this article) and their generally brutish manner. There are many possible stories I could tell, but here’s just one: I was at the now-defunct Love Parade in Tiergarten in 2000, sitting in the summer sun and rolling something not totally legal (vagueness in case family reading), when I looked up to see 10 policemen striding in my direction, not looking at all happy. Mouth agape and heart hammering, all I could do was stare at them, but luckily they passed by and headed to the man at a stall behind me, who was probably selling balloons without a permit or something.
Today was my last day learning German at my languge school, because my level was the highest they teach. So the next few weeks I'll be at home studying for my exam...

Bureaucracy for Dummies

2004-10-21T08:32:00.000+02:00

The Japanese woman in my class, Yoko, got out of bed at 5am a few days ago, in a temperature of perhaps -3 Celsius, to go and queue at the Ausländersamt (Foreign Office) and apply for a visa. Armed with many, many papers and a strong desire to stay here with her German boyfriend, she succeeded after waiting patiently (she's one of the most patient people I've ever met) for many hours. She can now stay here for two years and study, but only work if she's at university. I don't think she really needs to work though because her husband died in Japan and she receives a widower's pension. Like I said, she's very calm and gentle and serene, but she's also been studying Kendo for 20 years, a martial art where you essentially beat people with a stick. It just goes to show, I think, that everyone has an aggressive side.
Anyway, getting a visa, especially a work visa, can be very tricky in Germany and there are many surly public service workers, Catch-22s and laborious paperwork to encounter along the way. This year I'm lucky because I'm under 30 and was entitled to a Working Holiday Visa for a year, and all I had to do was send a few documents away to the German Consulate in NZ before I came. It only took a few days, unlike when I applied for the same visa for living in England in 2001 and had to ring them repeatedly between 12-2pm, only to be told I was "12th in the priority queue" and then by the time I was first it was 1:59pm and too late. Apparently people are charged for that call too now. Faschists!
In 2000, when I first lived in Germany, there was no such visa for here and I tried, I really did, to set myself up honestly. But advice from all around told me to just forget it, that it was too hard. I even tried calling the Ausländersamt, but they spoke no English! So although I registered with the police, which everyone is meant to do, I had no visa. I was what Germans call a "Schwarzarbeiter". If only I was Catholic and could confess this sin...well, this will have to do.

Dies und Das

2004-10-20T16:02:00.000+02:00

When you speak another language, your personality can change; you become more direct, you use different tones, it's like acting in a role.
Or when you don't know the words, your word use just becomes more economical. This doesn't always work. My boyfriend went to pick up a package and wanted to say, "I was expecting a package." But he didn't know the word for "expecting", so simply said "I was a package". Strangely enough, the woman understood.
On completely another subject, perhaps joining Orkut, the online channel, wasn't such a brilliant idea. Today I received an email four times from some nutter in India who wants to meet me. Will he pay for my plane ticket? "U r looking beutifull," he espoused. All very well and good, but also very creepy. But thus is the internet.
And on yet another topic, a friend of mine is having a baby. Not in Germany, but if she was there would be financial support from the government, a "stork wagen" to pick her up when she went into labour, and a name book from which she would be expected to select her child's new name. If it wasn't in the book, she'd have to leave to country to name her baby. I don't think I'd like to have a baby here, not that I have a choice in the matter. A bilingual kid would be great, but I'd want him/her to have the beach nearby and not live through long, cold winters every year. And of course Marmite for breakfast.

Saying Auf Wiedersehen...with detergent

2004-10-19T18:29:00.000+02:00

There is really no word for goodbye in German. Auf Wiedersehen means literally, "until the again-see". But despite this optimism, there are some times when you know you're probably seeing someone for the last time. And today I said goodbye to two people - one was my teacher Marc, who was one of the best German teachers I've had, and Su-Ah, the Korean girl in my class.
To farewell Marc we dismissed the usual chocolate and flowers and bought him cleaning liquid. While this may seem strange...okay, it is, but many times he'd told us that when he's angry or restless or sad he'll often occupy himself by cleaning his flat. We hoped to be able to leave his present in the staff room, but the staff thought it was so hilarious that we were giving him cleaning liquid that we had to take in upstairs and present it to him in person with everyone watching. Embarrassing - yes. But I think he was touched anyway.
Su-ah has too much work to do and so isn't coming back this week. In a few weeks' time she is also heading back to Korea. Not for good - it's just she doesn't have a visa for Germany so gets around it by coming and going every few months. It sounds tiring but she loves Berlin and Korea less so, so for her it's worth it.
PS I am so excited. After just yesterday moaning that Muse, one of my favourite bands, never plays in Europe anymore )they even made a trip to NZ in September, a concert which I of course missed), they are now doing a show in December in Earl's Court, London. So exciting! Pre-sales start tomorrow and so I have a good chance of getting tickets. No way am I missing it. No, I won't be blogging live from the concert but it will definitely get a mention.

Too scared to rent another DVD

2004-10-18T13:26:00.000+02:00

A few posts ago I entralled everyone with an enlightening description of joining a Berlin video library. Now I have to come back to the subject and say that actually returning the DVD I borrowed was also something new for me. For while in New Zealand the most expected is that you'll shove the borrowed DVD/video through a slot and walk off, hopefully not much later than a day after its due date, here in Germany it has become clear that you must deliver it in person, punctually of course, and then wait meekly as the video store geek inspects it sternly and thoroughly. Luckily I passed this unexpected test, but was chastised for not replacing the DVD in its plastic pouch facing the right way round (both sides looked the same to me). Anyway, much as I shy away from stereotypes, it seemed typically German to me. I wonder if library members are also treated like naughty schoolkids.
On a more positive note, I have discovered a cafe down the road that sells hot apple strudel with vanilla sauce and chocolate icecream. YUM!

A Night at Cafe Republik

2004-10-17T11:44:00.000+02:00

Last night we met some students from Richard's class, from Spain and Mexico. So a strange mix of Spanish, English and German was spoken (maybe not so strange in multi-kulti Berlin). Marcella is a photographer and was very excited to hear about Wannsee as a place to photograph nature. Juan and Elena were about to fly back to Spain and were not so happy about it, but they'd run out of money. Elena spoke fluent German because she'd studied in Bavaria but Juan was Richard's level.
The place where we met is just across the road from our flat on Pappelallee; in fact we can look out the window into the orange glow and see how busy it is (usually packed after 11pm). From the street you wouldn't know it was there - you have to go into the courtyard and up some flimsy stairs. The bar is huge, it takes up one whole floor and oddly has nothing above it - maybe it's a building that was bombed, because we have a view right over it which is unusual for a second floor flat, most have at least four levels.
Inside is completely retro - old brown sofas, round orange coffee tables, those big round lights on the walls and the odd disco ball. Very nice cocktails too, but I hadn't been back for a bit due to some nasty red wine with lemon and ice in it (stoned barman, long story).
All sorts head to Cafe Rebublik for a chat. The music is also very cool...they even play Che Fu occasionally. Whenever we have visitors we take them there because it's our "local". It shut down a few months ago, without expanation, then opened again as if nothing had happened. That's pretty normal here. Bars come and go, especially the best ones, the illegal ones that often consist of nothing more than a few couches and some alcohol.
If Cafe Rupublik is full sometimes we get lazy and go to the cocktail bar downstairs. Cocktail bars are very common here and everyone loves a caiparinha. This bar is unusual because it's a sand bar, meaning that even in the middle of winter, when it's minus-something degrees outside, you can enter this bizarre tropical oasis and feel the sand under your feet, bask in the pinky-orange light, fondle a nearby fake palm tree and sip rainbow coloured drinks. Tacky, yes, fun, sometimes.
PS Found out the other day that most Germans have never even seen the Sound of Music, a film that I seem to have an unhealthy fascination with, maybe because it's just so unbelievably saccarine. But I guess it makes sense - Germans are the baddies in the film, trying to make Captain Von Trapp join the Nazis, and so Germans watching the film might not end up feeling that same warm glow/bout of nausea that other people get when "Eidelweiß" is sung.

Theatre and DVDs

2004-10-16T13:28:00.000+02:00

Last night Ricarda and I went to Kreuzberg to watch some improv theatre, which isn't so big in Germany. Ricarda had a bit of a cold from what she thought was because of going outside a few days earlier with wet hair. That's one lesson I learnt quickly in Germany - it just turns to ice in cold weather and feels horrible.
Anyway, it turned out some Americans were in town and the show was in English. Ricarda was disapoointed because she'd wanted to show me some German theatresports, but it didn't really matter. Although lots of people didn't know it would be in English and some Germans had trouble understanding, eg what's a trailer park? What does "I call it like I see it" mean? The first half was pretty funny, where we all got to write the script, but the second half fell a bit flat. It was like they ran out of ideas, and the dancing at the end was just bizarre. But it was still good to go out to Kreuzberg, which has good nightlife.
It's pretty impossible to avoid English in central Berlin. With more and more foreigners flocking here, it's a default language and considered by young Germans to be pretty cool. I've already written about the odd mish-mash of English verbs forced into German, but if you listen to people talk, it can be like: "German German German English word German German..." Sometimes it turns out I am trying to use a German word where an English one would do, like yesterday I said DVD-spieler when DVD player is better.
Yesterday I joined Negativland, a really cool video store just across from Helmholzplatz. It's an opportunity for me to watch movies in German that I wouldn't normally get to, eg old silent movies and films made in the GDR. Yesterday I rented Berlin - Synphonie of a City, which was made in 1929 and just shows a typical day in the life of Berlin. A really cool time capsule, just to see where people went and what they wore. But it gave me a funny feeling too, because although the late '20s were a good time in Germany it didn't last. It was a decade after the First World War, and then a few years after the crippling inflation where a newspaper would cost something ridiculous like 100,000Marks and money itself becamd worthless, just blowing around the streets. But 1929 was only four years before Hitler came into power, so he would have been rising in fame down south when the film was made. It made me wonder when I looked at the people - how many would become Nazis? How many would be sent to camps or fight in the war? How many would live in West or East Berlin 30 years later? So the film's time capsule quality seemed even more fragile. Apparently there is a 2002 version of the film which would also be good to see.

Sharkbait

2004-10-15T08:54:00.000+02:00

I watched a film called Open Water last night. It was barely an hour long, but pretty intense. It's documentary-style and is based on a true story of a couple who were left behind on a diving trip to Australia's Great Barrier Reef in 1998. Their bodies were never found, just some of their diving gear. It took the diving company over two days to figure out they were missing and even so the owner was found not guilty of manslaughter. It's just horrible. Whether they died from dehydration, or drowning, or being eaten by sharks, they're all horrible deaths. I went on a trip to Great Barrier Reef and had a blast, but I might think twice about it now. It's not the only time such a case has happened, either.
I guess part of the reason the story makes such an impression is that it is about everyone's fear of abandonment, so it's not too hard to put yourself in their poisition and imagine what it must feel like. Anyway, I've never felt so grateful not to be in the sea!

Wannsee

2004-10-14T17:18:00.000+02:00

Went on a class trip today to Wannsee in south-west Berlin. It's really like another country compared to Prenzlauerberg - huge houses and gardens straddling an enormous lake. Today the wide streets were silent and covered by dead leaves which everyone jumped through and threw around. Idyllic. We took a boat across the lake, in the fresh autumnal morning, gliding past Pfaueninsel (Peacock Island) and the building where the famous "Wannsee conference" was held (deciding upon the Final Solution for Jews). The area formed part of the border between West Berlin and the rest of the DDR. Nearby is a bridge called Glieniker Brücke where spies famously met during the Cold War. Across from the bridge is a castle and a church which spanned No-Man's Land during the Cold War . The church was really in the middle of nowhere and looked after by a dour man who a teacher said had been there for years and always with the same expression. "He's rotting here, and I always go there hoping to see someone else, but no, it's always him," he said sadly. It reminded me a bit of the Eleanor Rigby song.
Not far away was a tree which is apparently two thousand years old, sitting serenely surrounded by broken-off branches. It sat on a little hill and was apparently planted over a burial ground. A small stroll away was a huge apple tree and we helped ourselves to plenty of fresh, crunchy, delicious apples.
It was cool. I'd been to Wannsee before but not so far into the forest. We ended up walking for ages. Now it's evening and I'm tired, back in dirty, loud, concrety Prenzlauerberg which I wouldn't give up for the world. But it's nice to have a nearby alternative when the grey gets me down.

Ancient lesbian sex

2004-10-12T13:26:00.000+02:00

Last night there was another Hartz IV demonstration, this time down our street. Luckily only a few hundred people though, maybe because it was cold and dark. Damn, it's cold already. 8 degrees C right now outside, at 1:30pm, with an added wind chill factor. Brrr. Dead leaves everywhere, but pretty orange colours. German's the only language I know with a special word for dead leaves - "Das Laub". I should go out later and take some pics.
Class was a bit weird this morning. We listened to a dialogue between a pretend Leni Riefenstahl (notorious German director) and Marlene Dietrich (notorious German actress who emigrated to the USA before WW2). They were played by two old women and it was such bad taste - okay, some of the info they took from real interviews, but at the end the two women end up (on the CD) getting it on!! Two very old women! Hearing it was almost worse than seeing it... And I am SURE I heard one of them say, "It should be narrow after all these years." But maybe she was referring to their friendship...either way, it's undone years of therapy.
Another package arrived from NZ, this time thermals. So we are well-prepared for winter and for a looking-as-unsexy-as-possible competition.

Nice/Nizza

2004-10-11T10:04:00.000+02:00

I just read the Christopher Reeve is dead. Very sad. He was really inspirational - after his horse accident in 1995 which left him paralysed and almost dead, he never gave up and always stayed positive. Before he died he was even beginning to have more sensation in parts of his body, and he starred in and directed a few films. I'll always remember him saying once on Oprah, "I feel like the luckiest man in the world", because he survived the accident and could see his kids grow up. An incredible human being.
We just returned from a long weekend in Nice. Known as "Nizza" in German, which doesn't sound quite as pleasant. One of those cheap EasyJet flights. The first day we just wandered round, looked at the beach, walked up and down the promenade, drank coffee and chocolate and ate crepes. I practised my lame school French, but whenever something spontaneous happened, German slipped out.
On the second day we took a whirlwind tour around Eze, a Medieval village, a perfume factory, Monaco, St Paul and Cannes. It was all the bit fast but otherwise we wouldn't have seen these plces so I'm glad we did it. The people on the trip (it was an 8-seater car) were interesting. Our French and English-speaking guide was fed up and laughing at them quite openly by the end. One woman asked him to speak English when he was, just because he was saying names of French places. Most of them just discussed America and terrorism (having the same coversation three times!) and clearly had little interest in learning what they were seeing. One woman kept asking, "Are we in Nice now?" When the guide pointed to the road where Princess Grace died in 1982, an American guy piped up, "Oh, is that Princess Diane?" A Turkish woman kept saying "the Garibaldi family" and wanted to know who was skydiving in the distance- the driver told her it was Prince Ranier and I think she believed him. Anyway, we were sitting upfront and heard the most interesting information - about the guide's three-day stint looking after a Spanish billionaire and his insane behaviour with drugs, celebrities, yachts and so forth.
Monaco was unbelievable - so much bling bling. Apparently there is one policeman for every 4o people, so therefore no crime. And it was so clean, especially compared to Berlin where there is dog crap everywhere. We saw the Saudi king's yacht with helicopter on top, and we drove over the Monaco Grand Prix starting line. Part of Monaco has also been built over the sea because of space limitations. We drove up to the Grimaldi palace and saw the changing of the guard over other tourists' heads, then went to the cathedral to see Princess Grace's tomb. It was errily dark and quiet - luckily we missed a bus load of about 70 tourists who followed us.
Cannes was nothing really special - I'm sure it's mad during the film festival, but in October it was just a pretty, and ritzy, seaside town. Lots of people swimming and sunbathing on golden sand. We saw the ugly building where they screen films during a festival and had a cursory look at all the star's handprints. and pawprints (Pink Panther).
Back in Berlin now and it is always good to be back, but damn it's cold already! Minus one this morning when I got up.

US and them

2004-10-05T17:06:00.000+02:00

It's been a US-centred week, really, with the debate, then the post-debate commentary (basically people saying what a dick Bush is), and now it's been announced that all Kiwis have to get biometric passports, that is, a passport with a microchip in it, if they want to travel to the US. Yes, because you know what a terror threat us NZers can be. It's all that number 8 fencing wire and sheep wool, that we combine to create a MacGyver-like nuclear weapon. And clearly the photographing and finger-printing isn't enough. Well, fuck that, I wasn't going to the US anyway.
Am heading to France for a long weekend tomorrow. An opportunity to revive my long-dormant School French. A bientot.

Royale wi' Cheese....

2004-10-04T22:32:00.002+02:00

Last night I went to the Mudd Club, an underground (literally - like many Berlin clubs, it's in a cellar) club in Mitte. Take a right at the tacky American Happy Days-style diner at the corner and you're there. It's a tiny club and last night The Tarantinos were playing. They're a group from London who cover songs from, you guessed it, Quentin Tarantino movies. (QT has a blog too, but I'm guessing his gets more traffic). It took a while for everyone to warm up, but after a few drinks no one shied away from twisting to Jack Rabbit Slims - or was it Chuck Berry - or Little Green Bag. They didn't foget the well-worn but loved dialogue, either ("If yoou fucking pigs moooove - Aahm gonna execute every muthuh-fuckin' last one-a-ya!") Ah, the memories. It's already about 10 years since Pulp Fiction came out and I had to try three times to get into a cinema to see it...it was R18 and I was 17 but looked about 15, with no fake ID yet to speak of (that came a bit later).
The sax player knew a bit of corny German and didn't shirk from trying it out on the crowd, to encouraging applause. "Ich habe einen kleinen Schwanz - what does that mean?" Well, as long as he knows the basics.

Taking a stroll..with 50,000 people

2004-10-02T15:49:00.000+02:00

Today was sunny and remarkably warm, so we went for a walk through Gendarmenmarkt, Berlin's famous French quarter with its concert house, two domes and many lanterns. And, finally and for the first time ever, I went inside the Berliner Dom in Hackescher Markt, whcich I've been meaning to do for years (along with the Reichstag, so I'm ticking a few things of my long To Do list). There just happened to be an orchestra warming up for a concert tonight, which added to the mood of the place - sun streaming in, stained-glass windows, huge ornate paintings and designs. Richard didn't like it so much - apparently religious places bring back the years of boredom and inner torment of a Catholic upbringing. Can't relate myself.
Our wander home was interrupted by police vans and 50,000 protestors. Well, that happens. The protests at the moment are about Hatz IV, Germany's attempt to curb rising unemployment (25% in some, mainly eastern parts) by cutting back benefits. Honestly, some people get up to 60% of their former salary in benefits. Although strong, I think Hartz IV is a must for Germany if it wants to get back on its feet. But many people obviously don't feel the same way, judging from the frequent protests. Mostly people from the former East, it must be said. Well, everyone in the GDR was supported and had some kind of job. And you can't just expect two former countries to reunite just like that without any problems. But then these days I don't think people should expect free handouts forever. Something has to change.
And as I type it's clouded over and is pouring with rain. Typical Berlin autumn...although the orange trees around the Berliner Dom did look very becoming.

Won't somebody please think of the pumpkins?

2004-10-01T17:08:00.000+02:00

We were discussing Halloween last night and Ricarda learnt the English word pumpkin. She already knew the word because of course she knew Smashing Pumpkins, she just hadn't known what it meant. "Kürbis schlagen??" she asked with disbelief. Which made me wonder how many other bands Germans know without any idea of what the name means. Who could explain Screaming Trees, or Mother Love Bone?
And it turns out Xmas is a huge deal in Germany - heaps of rituals, baking, lights, preparation. Although they do need something to look forward to during the long, cold, dark winter. I don't think I'll be very homesick then because I associate Xmas with summer, beach, salads etc. Santa wearing sunnies. And I hope it snows! Am considering a trip to Norway to see the Northern Lights.
So, the presidential debate. It was at 3am my time so I missed it, but by all accounts Kerry did the best and there were no real surprises. And can Bush ever stop mixing up Osama and Saddam? It's like in his mind they're the same person...
I filled my post-lunch hour by writing a pretend letter to Stern magazine about how pets in the EU now require passports to travel. Photos optional. Lucky them. Why can't our photos be optional? Although they need a microchip or tatoo mark. Well, judging by the fact NZers now need to give fingerprints and have their photo taken when they enter the US, we're not far behind ourselves.
Quite enjoying The Stills at the moment.

Wo ist Pappi?

2004-09-30T17:26:00.000+02:00

Managed to have a reasonably administrative conversation with my landlord today, so must be learning some German.
The weather here is different to NZ. Obviously more clearly defined seasons, but also the light is different. And the moon appears much bigger. Speaking of the moon, Richard Branson is promising trips to space in a few years for cheap (ie, only a couple of hundred thousand bucks) prices. Well, I hope it works out. I'd love to go into space. Who wouldn't? And why can't I think about space without David Bowie's "Space Oddity" popping into my head? ("This is Ground Control to Major Tom, la la la la la laaaa.")
Su-Ah, the girl from Korea in my class, saw my iPod today. She didn't know what it was so I expained. Then we had a brief conversation about the evils of downloading ("It's not stealing, it's sharing" - me. ) Her opinion was partly shaped by the ads they show here in Germany of little girls wandering round the house going "Wo ist Pappi?" as the mother rocks back and forth crying. Turns out Pappi was a naughty pirate and is in the slammer awaiting execution. Okay, not the last part! But is being suitably punished.
If I was Catholic and confessed my downloading, would I be absolved? I'll say three Hail Marys, just in case.
Downloaded in German is gedownloadet. Very thinly disguised English. Like gecovered, ausgeflippt or abgefuckt.

Drugs, money, playing the sausage

2004-09-29T17:33:00.000+02:00

A friend of a friend is having P issues. For those who don't know, P stands for Pure Methamphetamine and there is a so-called "epidemic" of it in NZ. Many people who smoke P get addicted to it and some flip out and find themselves doing all sorts of crazy things, including murder. It's a horrible drug, that NZers take for lack of anything better - there are really strict border checks and hardly any coke or Ecstasy makes it through, hence the prices are sky-high and people turn to P for a cheap and widely available drug. It's not just gangs doing it, it's young kids and even professionals in their spare time. I've heard nothing but bad stories.
On a lighter note, here is a US episode that I've been downloading bit by bit called The Benefactor. On this umpteenth reality show, a self-made billionaire offers to give $1 million to whoever comes number one in his series of tests. Quite interesting to see who is doing well. but he clearly has favourites and it's not necessarily about being a clever businessperson, more about just brown nosing. Although I guess that's part of the business world.
Learned some more German slang in class today. The best were "Mein Freund zog mich immer durch den Kakao" (My friend always pulled me through the cocoa, ie mocked me.)
Another one was "Ich stand mir die Beine in den Bauch" (I stood with my legs in my tummy, ie waited so long that my legs shrank up to my stomach).
Yet another was "Ich spielte noch die beleidigte Leberwurst" (I played the offended sausage, ie I sulked - why sausage? It's Germany!)
And the last: "Sie wollte mir mal den Bären aufbinden" (She wanted to untie the bear again, ie deceive me)
Phrases in foreign languages are great. And it's always funny when you start mocking them and realise you have equally ridiculous ones in your own language, such as wearing the cat's pyjamas.

The Weekly Chore

2004-09-28T17:16:00.000+02:00

It's a sad lifepoint when the most eventful part of my day is going to the supermarket, but it comes to that sometimes. Especially when it's raining for the umpteenth day in a row.
German supermarkets are somewhat different from those in NZ. For one thing, they're all pretty shit. The standard of shittiness varies, of course. The worst are the mean little "Märkte" where it's dark and cramped, with sagging veges. The best are the Kaisers supermarkets. They're bright and large and inviting, but most of the food is still awful. Really, the best place to go for food are cafes or the many little outdoor markets, but sometimes a supermarket trip is necessary.
The trollies are tiny, basically the size of the kids' trollies in NZ supermarkets. You "rent" one for one Euro (why don't they do that in NZ and prevent uni students collecting them?) and push it boredly round. Some of the tins and jars are flat out disgusting (who buys spam? who?). When you have found something to put in the trolley, you can head to the checkout where a surly woman with a mullet will greet you, shoving your food across the counter faster than you can pack it, then stare as you pack it yourself in your own bags.
But you get used to it. And last time I returned to NZ from Germany, the chipper customer service of the check out people seemed so overwhelming, I felt I was in a land where Ecstasy was consumed as part of the daily norm.

Run, run, run (or not)

2004-09-25T17:33:00.000+02:00

Ah, another day at the laptop. First up was an article on making friends, which I'm hardly doing when surgically attached to my mouse, then all the emails I didn't send last week. The ones in English take no time at all - just blathering, really, in a nice way - but the ones to German penpals take ages, what with trying to get the genders and declinations right, nouns in Caps, verbs in the right place...
Did I mention I am sick to death of Franz Ferdinand? Most of my music is MP3 and on the iPod, but the few CDs I own that sound the best on Christoph's stereo system...well, the sound is good but I'm sick to death of them. Right now FF are blaring "Ich heiße Superfantastik" which is all very deep and meaningful but is way too chipper.
Perhaps what I should have been doing today was running the Berlin Marathon with 40,000 other goody-goods, but let's be honest, there wasn't the remotest chance of that happening without a coffee drip or many Red Bulls. It's more fun just to stroll round autumnal Berlin, when it's not raining, in my new red coat (I seem to be the only person not in a black coat) and kick round leaves.

Reichstag

2004-09-24T08:33:00.000+02:00

On Wednesday night I went with my "language exchange" partner (although I think we could just be called friends, now) Ricarda to the Reichstag. I finally made it! I remember when my first Herald article was published about Berlin in 2000 and they included a photo of the Reichstag and I felt a bit like a plonker for not even going to see it. It is free, after all.
So we took a right at the Brandenburg Gate, right before Tiergarten, and queued during the sunset to get in. I have mixed feelings when I look at the Reichstag. It's a magnificent building with thick columns at the top of the stairs and the glass dome peeking over from the top. But in the corner of my mind I also see Hitler in this building and so being there is a chilling experience as well..
At the bottom of the stairs is a huge lawn where people lie on warm days. Today wasn't even close - autumn is well and truly here, with dark, low clouds and a biting wind. Like being at the airport, we had to pass strong security checks before they let us in.
Inside they have photos of the Reichstag from the late 1800s to today. Yes, that includes the Kaiser, soldiers, Hitler and the Wall. There was a photo of Michael Jackson giving a concert in 1988 outside the Reichstag. Ricarda said it was common knowledge that concerts would be staged near the Wall so East Germans could crowd onto Unter Den Linden and hear them too.
There is a spiral staircase that you can walk up and on the way you can look out at Berlin. It was already dark, but we could still see the TV tower at Alexanderplatz (old DDR relic that it is, it looks like an old disco ball or the Death Star stuck on a large pole), the illuminated Berliner Dom, the Spree river sparkling from the night lights.
I've been commissioned to do some more work, which is a relief - three articles.
I've also found some more ways to practise my German - I have two pen-pals (in Bavaria) and an MSN Messenger friend. I've decided to apply for a job that was advertised in Tip yesterday, it's for a German to English translator. Native-speaker levels of English are required and fluent German (which is a maybe - my German is relatively fluent but there's no one day you wake up and realise you're fluent. But my ZMP exam is in November so that might count for something). Anyway, as someone in my life used to say, If you don't ask, you don't get. It's a simple but effective philosophy.
Today is Friday and it's Claire's last day in Berlin, so we're going out to lunch. Love going out to lunch! Though the choice of where to eat out in Berlin is overwhelming.

cough

2004-09-20T17:57:00.000+02:00

Got a packet from NZ- Milo! Gingernuts! Yum!! Every dunk of a Gingernut is a precious moment when you're on the other side of the world.
Last night we went to the Berliner Philharmoniker for the first time - cool building. The music was Debussey conducted by Sir Simon Rattle. Rattle asked everyone (in German) so try and minimise their coughing, so people waited till the interludes before hacking away. Dubussey is not easy to listen to, but it was also fun to sit there and people watch (there were hundreds - it sold out months ago, too). The black and white tuxes, the glistening instruments, the accoustics.
Speaking of accousitcs, I read today that Shihad have changed their name back to Shihad, after being Pacifier for a few post-9/11 years. They never really stopped being Shihad in NZ, anyway. People sometimes find change hard to take.
Today is Deutsch-only day, where my (NZ) bf and I speak only in German. Although we are very disparate levels it helps a lot and keeps me thinking in German for most of the day.

2004-09-19T14:38:00.000+02:00

Two posts in one day because I'm bored. I've done my German stuff, sent off some articles and ideas, downloaded some stuff. The weather is grey and cold, and it's Sunday so of course all the shops are shut (I must do a post about that sometime).
So I'm going to talk about registration (Anmeldung). Here in Germany it is compulsory for everyone, Germans as well as foreigners, to register with the police. I don't know how well it works. If you look at the top of my blog, you'll see I put that I'm one of 250 NZers here. I got that figure from a Tagespiegel article John's wife Tanja showed me, which added up all the registered foreigners in Berlin (there was one lonely Tongan, as I recall). But the number can't be too accurate - for one, the article was from the end of last year and I was counted even though I wasn't here then. That's because I didn't fill in my Abmeldung form (an un-registration form) when I left at the end of 2000. And heaps of people don't bother to register because it's a pain in the ass.
But, being a good girl (and wanting to open a bank account, which you need the form for), I dragged my bf to the Meldungsbüro in June to register. The process is this: You buy the forms and fill them in at home (or try to, some of it's quite complicated). Then you go as soon as the büro opens, take a number and wait two hours, praying it will all work out and the waiting hasn't been for nothing. You get ushered into a room, most likely inhabited by some sour old crank who hates his/her boring job. Questions are asked, corrections are made to mistakes on the form (you must fill in the religion section, even if you don't have one. I later found out this part is to deduct your pay for Church Tax if you are so inclined.) My visit was slightly unfortunate - it was discovered I'd never filled in the Abmeldung form for 2000 and had skewed their stats ever since. Naughty me! Then it was revealed I didn't know the address of where I'd allegedly lived, so Sour Woman heaved a sigh and filled it in for me. Then it was further revealed that whoever had helped me with my first form in 2000 had declared me divorced, and Sour Woman looked sceptical when I swore I'd never even been married. Luckily I was not asked to prove this (how could I?)
Finally, after hours of waiting and maintaining my single status, I was registered with the police. So they can now find me if they want, which isn't exactly appealing, but there you go. What a palaver. But it's a necessary evil for any kind of administrative thing in Berlin, eg bank card, video card, library card, phone plans... People are always shocked to find out such a process does not exist in NZ and my passport, the only formal ID doc I have save my driver's licence, is only for travelling with and I didn't even have that until I was 20!

Blue eyes, Little Earth Men...

2004-09-19T10:33:00.000+02:00

Thierry, the Swiss guy (French part), has left our German class and so we are now manless. He was particularly striking, too - the bluest eyes I've ever seen. The woman at the bakery. who normally doesn't give us more than a cursory nod, would fawn all over him.
I should say who the other people in my class are - Yoko. from Japan, is friendly but reserved. She has a German boyfriend and translates between Japanese and Chinese. She is mid 30s and had a husband in Japan who died but I'm not sure how and of course don't want to ask. Su-ah is from Korea, also reserved but friendly, is an author and loves reading German literature. That's why she's learning German and she also wants to translate. Pinto's first name is Rebecca but everyone calls her Pinto. She's from everywhere - Brazilian father, Portugese mother, grew up in Aussie but speaks with a London accent. She is very bubbly and works in a hostel, always too hard because she's very run-down. Kyla is Canadian and hardly speaks German although she's lived here for ages. She's an interior architect. Claire comes from Leeds and has two kids, is friendly but gets grumpy fast if she can't understand something. She leaves this week.
Yesterday was Saturday and Rich and I went to the zoo - good to learn animal names, my favourite was meerkat in German is Erdmännchen (little earth man, so cute!) - and then I went to KaDeWe to buy some boots. It was a relatively painless experience apart from a man directing me to the teens' section! They have so many things to choose from there it's hard to narrow it down. On the top level there is a food court claiming to sell 1800 different kinds of sausage and cheese, and there's a domed glass roof where you can look over the western side of the city. Outside the store is a "Mahnmal" (memorial for something negative) about the concentration camps just saying We Must Never Forget and then listing them one by one. People seemed more interested in the brass band nearby pumping out the Mission Impossible theme.

Retraction

2004-09-18T10:59:00.000+02:00

I was wrong about the plastic surgeon - he did ring and leave a message, but at 8pm. The person calling later (twice) was my bf's mother from NZ who heard my answerphone message in German and thought she's called the wrong number. We know this because she called again at 2am (no research into the time difference, clearly) and my bf answered, thinking it was the plastic surgeon and preparing to have words (how chivalrous). So I am teaching him, starting next week.
Today is Saturday, and yet another fine, sunny autumn day in Berlin. First up is always the Kollwitzplatz Ökomarkt for a crepe (must have lemon and sugar), fresh ravioli, juice, feta, olives, pesto and bread. Yum!

Demanding plastic surgeon and a dictator's downfall

2004-09-17T10:36:00.000+02:00

How did it become Friday already? I've already missed half my German class today because I slept in. Last night I met some old friends for dinner in Neuköln, one of whom is visiting Berlin from NZ for a few days. It was good, although everyone was speaking German and although I could understand everything, I don't have the confidence to jump in and say something. Although I often have a similar problem in English..
Jörgen, the plastic surgeon, rang me at 11:30pm. I didn't answer it (was still at dinner, of course) and he left a message, then rang back. I don't like that, especially when it's late. If I don't answer the phone, you shouldn't call back unless it's a bloody emergency (or a job offer)! He said he wanted to see me and I don't know if he meant right then or if it was just his not-so-good English. I felt a bit harrassed. I had met him again earlier this week, unsure if I should meet him again, but it went okay. He said he wants me to teach him English (he's already taking classes) and I was going to say yes, because it would be easy money and I need some of that, but if he's going to call late and be demanding it's not worth it.
Yesterday I went to see Der Untergang with my class in the afternoon. I understood most of it and of course I knew the plot so it wasn't too hard. They lost me a bit when discussing military strategies, but the map of Berlin with red squares and arrows pointing inwards was fairly self-explanatory. The actor who played Hitler was really good, although his strong Bavarian accent made it hard to understand everything. I think it's the first commercial German film about WW2, which is quite a step I guess.

Emails and chirpiness

2004-09-14T08:52:00.000+02:00

For some inexplicable reason I woke up feeling quite cheerful. Maybe it's that it's a sunny day, with a hint of autumnal crispness in the air. Maybe it's that I feel free. Or that I'm going to Nice in a few weeks. No travel article, just a weekend trip.
Russell sent me an email. Russell is an American guy (passionately anti-Bush) who I met during my short-lived and funds-draining stint at Goethe. He's back in Boston, but sends me these great, rambling emails. One of the disadvantages of emails I've noticed, as someone who comes from a prehistoric era of snail mail, is that personal emails are often shit. They're either two lines long or simply lacking in any valid information. One of my best friends, who I know can write well, sends appalling emails.
Anyway, off to school. Gave my Maori presentation yesterday. Everyone seemed really interested, asked lots of q's,. I'm taking in my passport today so they can see some Maori. I showed them the haka yesterday on my laptop. I was so nervous as I started talking! Felt dumb, I don't know why I was scared. It's irrational.

Rejected!

2004-09-13T08:58:00.000+02:00

The Godafather was okay. Well acted and good plot, but the whole mafia thing has been done to death ever since and I'm not such a fan, anyway. I can't identify with a bunch of thugs.
Am a bit let down because I just got a rejection letter for two of my travel articles. The features ed sounded quite sad to say no, but it was for a girl mag and apparently my articless weren't NZ-focused enough (but that's the point!) or perky enough (I take that as a compliment). So a slight disappointment but it was a nice letter and good to actually get a reply with feedback. She said to send her more stuff, too. And rejections are normal, though I've been pretty lucky so far..
I have to give a speech to my German class this morning about the Maori culture.

Untitled

2004-09-11T16:03:00.000+02:00

Shopping for winter clothes - I now look like a H&M advertisment.
Found out why the Herald job was advertised - a journo was fired for plagiarism. Ouch.
Saw the Jim Jarmush film Coffee and Cigarettes last night. Was actually pretty good. I liked the sketches with Steven Coogin as a self-satisfied wanker and Cate Blanchett and her jealous cousin (played by the same person). I am watching the Godfather tonight. I have never, ever seen it. So much hype - it's IMDb's number one film.
Turned down a request by Expatica to write an article - felt bad. but was too complicated and would've involved legal jargon.
This afternoon I have had an unprecidented attack of domesticity and am baking a cake. The last time I baked a cake would've been sometime between grunge and post grunge, so it's been a while.

Tandem

2004-09-09T10:03:00.000+02:00

Yesterday I met my second language exchange partner for the first time. I don't know if it will work out, he was kind of wierd and demanding. In fact, for the first two months he only wanted to speak in English! I had to remind him nicely that that wasn't an "exchange", it was just him being taught by me for free. He also seemed pretty self-absorbed, chatting away about himself for most of the time and blinking at me during the brief times I spoke, then resuming his monologue. Looking back on what I've just written, I don't know if I'll meet him again...maybe just once more and pretend I have to leave the country immediately or something.

Connected again

2004-09-07T17:25:00.000+02:00

I have given up on wireless connections. Wireless sucks! There, it's official.
Now I finally have working internet and don't have to click on the same button, over and over, hoping it won't "time out". Does that phrase remind anyone else of a sulky kid sitting in the corner? Well, that's what it behaves like: "Nup. Not doin' it. No! You're not the boss of me", etc.
So today I've taken advantage of snappy speeds by sending out my travel aticles in the vain hope that someone will want one and the vainer hope that I might be paid for it. Honestly, I've found the money-chasing takes a lot longer than the writing part. I would never rely on freelancing for money.
The sad part is when you're disconnected and feel like the whole cyber world is moving on without you, you're out of the loop, etc. Then you find the bitter announcement: "You have 0 new emails. That's right, null, niente, nichts, etc"

Home alone

2004-09-05T10:38:00.000+02:00

Yesterday I went to an art exhibition on Museum Island with some people from my class, then had lunch with them. That was nice. I don't have any close friends here right now, but I don't really care - it's good to get to know new people a bit.
Because I'm here by myself, I downloaded a film that only I would want to see. No, I'm not going to say what it was! No, it was not The Sound of Music, though I do have a soft spot for Christopher Plummer.
Today I'm trying to finish an article, but procrastinating a lot and looking longingly out the window at the sunny day.

weather

2004-09-03T08:39:00.000+02:00

Summer came back yesterday, hurrah! I was sitting by Brandenburg Gate in the evening sun, watching the tourists scuttling by laden down with cameras.
People seem to be fixated by the weather here. Maybe because it's usually more interesting than in NZ.
Walked around last night. There are buildings here that have been done up and some that still have bullet holes from ww2. I like the contrast, I find it very interesting, but they old ones won't be around too much longer. It's true that Berlin is one big construction site still.
My bf is off this weekend to London for a a Zillionaire concert and a meeting with our old friend Charlie. Am a tad envious, but will also be good to have the place to myself and re-enact that Tom Cruise - Risky Business scene (if I want..)

Shower

2004-09-01T08:53:00.000+02:00

I'm a bit grumpy this morning because, for some inexplicable reason, there is no hot water so I can't shower.
Anyway...yesterday we tried to arrange our next flat since we have to move out of here in October. Of course, got caught in a massive downpour. Still, I quite like massive downpours.
Yesterday I got an email from a website I do some writing for, saying one of my article might be published in the Wall Street Journal. I hope it is...instant prestige in my CV, seething envy from peers, etc.

Class

2004-08-30T17:56:00.000+02:00

Today I started my new German course. I already knew some of the people - Suah from Korea and Yoko for Japan. It was good to see them again. It's a small class and the teacher's good, too. I was glad Mathilda wasn't there. She was in the last course and was so dour, surly and argumentative - like a Dementor, she tended to suck the fun out of things.
I just rang this guy who advertised in Tip magazine for a language partner. Apparently he's a plastic surgeon! We keep just leaving messages on each other's phones. He says he wanted a NZer because he likes the accent. Odd...
I watched the scary Korean film last night, it's called A Tale of Two Sisters and was both scary and also a psychological thriller, which I liked - not just random horror but there was a point to what happened. I checked out the IMDB message board and people had a lot to say about it, mostly wrong in my opinion.

Rain

2004-08-29T13:43:00.000+02:00

It's a typically rainy, rather cold Sunday for the end of August. Made my typical cold-weather-vegetable-soup. I'm just pottering online today and thinking about some things I have to do. Just updated my CV to send to the Herald (sometimes I have to add and delete things depending on whom I'm sending it to - eg they don't need to be informed that the Herald's NZ's biggest newspaper).
Also sent the Herald some travel articles, but haven't heard back yet...hrmph.
Last night I saw the worst movie - Ken Park, directed by Larry Clarke. It had some points, about how some kids are plagued by their fucked-up parents, for example, but the extended blow-job/wanking scenes just went on and on pointlessly.
Got an email from Russell, an American guy in m last course, that was nice. I start my new German course tomorrow. I already know some people in it. Will force me to get out of bed at a reasonable time.

Museum

2004-08-28T18:34:00.000+02:00

I'm writing an article on some of the museums in Berlin so today I went and had a look at one - the Historisches Museum. It's got an new extension designed by Pei, the guy who designed the glass pyramid outside the Louvre.
The extension was pretty cool - a spiral glass staircase etc. I had a look at the exhibitions too. One was American Portraits taken by a German photographer. It was a bit odd that all the explanations were in German only. I liked it, because it made me practise, but a visitor woudn't get much out of it.
I took some photos too, I hope they work out okay for the magazine.
Tonight I "borrowed" (yes, the d-word, but I'm paranoid about typing that online) a Korean film called A Tale of Two Sisters. It's meant to be scarier than Ringu and that was pretty damn frightening. I love horror movies, though. I like the "safe" adrenalin of being scared watching one. We don't have a TV in Germany though so I have to resort to watching it on my laptop. Better than nothing..
I saw some jobs advertised on the Herald website in NZ for feature writers etc. I got quite excited, which was interesting because I didn't think that was what I wanted to do, but maybe I've changed this year. Of course I can't apply - it's for next month and I'm here for at least another 4-5 - but maybe later.

Babies

2004-08-27T12:15:00.000+02:00

The suburb I live in in Berlin is called Prenzlauerberg and apparently has the highest birth rate in the country. You can tell - it's impossible to walk down the street without being almost run-over by a pram/toddler on a push-bike/ambulance with woman in labour inside. As a visitor here, you'd be forgiven for thinking the world was being taken over by little people.
Personally, I'm just trying not to get any ideas. Because some of those kids are damn cute...

Hello

2004-08-26T18:56:00.000+02:00

This is my first ever blog post, in August 2004, at the age of 26. Who would've thought that this narcissistic act would take me so long? I've been thinking about it ever since I watched Doogie Howser in the '80s (anyone over 20 will remember).
So here we are. Actually I couldn't tell you why you should read my blog as opposed to the other 2 billion out there, but I'm just going to keep writing and see what happens. I like writing. Actually, I like it so much I made it one of my professions. I was a teacher first, now I'm a journalist and this year I'm studying German because I want to do some more translating (I've only tried it once, but it was interesting).
That's partly while I'm here in Berlin. I lived here four years ago too, and had such a great time that I missed it and had to come back. It's not the same as it was then, but I still love it.
More later.