Gypsies

I just recently decided to boycott a forum here in Germany on account of a particularly racist thread on gypsies. The thread started because there are some women around Alexanderplatz (downtown Berlin) who will come up to you, baby in arms and ask you "do you speak English?" If you say yes, they will show you a card which tells their tragic tale, and ask you for some money. Now, granted, I understand this is annoying. But it does not deserve the kind of comments made in this thread. To boot, I have some evidence that the women in question were not Roma (the accent they spoke with, their dress, and several other factors) but even if they were, this sort of thing is not acceptable. Now then, even though I know better than to feed the trolls, I had to comment with something. My grandfather was of Romanian gypsy decent. He was the first to come to America and went from having a traveling bear act to almost becoming one of the three stooges! So anyway, I told these racist idiots what anyone on the defensive side of a racist attack would- that they were ignorant and should all be ashamed of themselves. I doubt this did much, except make them more indignant and protective of their racist views and have since decided to abandon the conversation. It's hard for me to sit by on this issue and I've had to more and more while living in Europe. People tend to lump anyone of ethnicity who is a beggar or prostitute under the "roma umbrella" and considering the horrendous loads of shit people like my grandfather and his parents had to go through, it is almost intolerable for me. Among other things, an estimated one million five hundred thousand Roma and Sinti were murdered during the holocaust, frequently the victims of gross experiments and unnatural forms of torture. More recently, the Italian government has been accused of burning Romani camps in order to get rid of the "gypsy problem." All this, and yet Berlin has not completed the monument to the Sinti and Roma that was planned at the same time as the Jewish memorial. You can go to it now and all it is is a vacant dirty lot with a plaque. When asked why a proper monument has yet to be built 47 years later, they say there isn't enough interest. They mean tourists. Tourists associate the Sinti and Roma with beggars, thieves, and prostitutes. Never mind that they are also a culture from which several notable artists, musicians, and other professionals emerged, including my grand father. Yes, there are people in the Roma / Sinti culture who are beggars, thieves, and prostitutes, just as there are white people who are beggars, thieves, prostitutes, just as there are black people who are beggars, thieves, prostitutes, and just as there are people of every ethnicity who have had to do what they have to do to make a living. To label an entire culture based on a select group of individuals is racism. It is no different than the racism that has been faced by people of any other ethnicity. So to everyone who feels they have been "annoyed" by a Gypsy, and wishes they would just "go away" or get kicked out of whatever country, or starve and die in the streets until there are none left, you should perhaps realize that people like Adolf Hitler thought exactly the way you did, and do you really want to share the opinions of a mass murdering fuck head?

This post is in loving memory of my grand father.

-M

The Shit Shelf

Much as I hate blog entries which include instant messaging conversations, I feel this one adds a unique insight into my life as an expat...

Brian: my roommate went out to buy a new toilet
me: that's random
just now?
it's like 8 almost
and what happened to your old toilet?
Brian: i know weird huh? he was taking measurements for it a few min ago
it's still there
me: o.0
Brian: he said he wants a toilet without a shelf because he doesn't want to look at his shit

me: o.0
um what???
Brian: hehehe
me: a shelf?
there is a shelf in your toilet?
Brian: you know how most german toilets have a shelf?
the shit drops and rests there
so you can examine it
then you flush it and it goes away
i guess people like to find out if they're gesund
i told joscha we don't have that in the us.
me: wait wait.. you are lying right?
Brian: and he said "yeah they don't have it in france either"
no, the germans are known for being so anal retentive as to check their own shit
anyway, he's apparently rejecting his cultural mandate
i'm not lying there was an even worse on in my old apt
because it would always leave skidmarks
so you have to brush it every time...or at least i would
me: ....
this is insanity.
Brian: that would be a fun article to write!
me: that is a good way to look at it
Brian: hehe
me: yes, this is insane and disgusting. But I can write about it!
Brian: you want to do it? ok
me: no no, you should do it. i don't have a shit shelf
Brian: oh ok
me: nor do i have any shit shelf experience.
Brian: pity

German Women Don't Want To Cook Your Dinner

"“What are we eating today?” is the most annoying question German women frequently answer, according to a new survey by women’s magazine Bella. Two-thirds of the 1,051 women surveyed said this question threatened their sanity, while some 59 percent said “I can’t do everything,” was their least favourite male commentary.

“She’s your daughter after all,” and “How much longer do you need in the bathroom?” were also on the list of questions that disturb relationship harmony, the magazine reported.

Men would do well to repeat compliments like, “Dear, you always look great!” in order to restore a happy balance in their homes, 34 percent of the survey’s 35 to 60-year-old women said."

From: The Local
http://www.thelocal.de/14883/20081014/

Secret Club & Bi-curious Open Mouth Night

A couple days over-due. And with reason.

1. Saturday - 2 AM arrival @ Zementgarten located just foot steps away from the middle of f---ing nowhere / Lichtenberg. After wandering around dark streets lined in dilapidating apartment buildings for 10 min. am lucky enough to find boy on Ecstasy aimlessly searching for the sbahn. Wir fragen re: secret entrance to warehouse club. He points to an almost person-sized break in a sheet metal gate. Across huge former parking lot in dead warehouse city lit only by single street lamp we pull a security door. Enter moist, red dungeon of a squat party dotted in hippies dancing with drugs. Despite aversion to fusion music, manage to move feet significantly to the sounds of computers, vocoder, kazoos, and plastic bottles. Dragged butt home just shy of daylight.

2. Sunday - The Berlin poetry release of Paula Varjack aka: my friend sara from London / New York / & Washington DC- featuring: others. Others consist of: Germany's first "Mid-western mid-eastern blue grass band," a drunk girl who was supposed to MC but showed up halfway through the event to slur some words into a microphone, a British comedian whose jokes consisted mainly of using the words "cunt" and "crisps" in succession, and a band of Romanian minstrels dressed in druidic-looking robes. This madness (survived by no less than 2 gin and tonics) was followed by a trip to nearby 8 mm where the very bad man of a DJ encouraged sara's unruly throng to dance on chairs, have a make-out huddle, and sing along to "Roxanne." There was much making out between the girls and f*ing in the bathrooms, especially after my group converged with a gaggle of blond Danish 20-somethings who were impressed with our belligerence. I alone abstained and was subsequently told by the bartender that I didn't look like I was having a good time. 3 bottles of beer later I had made friends with everyone, but holding strong to my promise not to catch mono refrained from the all-girl tongue lashing. None-the-less, an Olympicly persistent Swedish girl insisted upon giving me her phone number and myspace "just in case I come to Stockholm for sexy orgy." Did not beat daylight on the long, cold bike ride home. And am still haunted by the memories.

Making Out In The Deep Freeze

This weekend I made out in a deep freezer. Today, my throat is killing me.

Dr. Pong: The Ping Pong Bar

Later I'm going to a Ping Pong bar in prenzlauerberg. Everyone stands around a ping pong table with a paddle hitting it back and forth until only two people are left- they then have to run from one side of the table to the other hitting the ball until somebody gets out. Then everything starts over again. Whee!

Dear Maria am Ostbahnhof

You suck. Every time I go to see a show, the cover is too much (12 euros is the least I've ever paid) and never announced beforehand. Your bartenders are rude and mix crappy overpriced drinks. Your second room is always lame, with the same lame DJs spinning the same lame industrial goth music regardless of the lineup in the main room. I could put up with all that if I could only get to enjoy the musicians I go to see. But no. Your sound system is badly arranged. You let too many people in most nights and so the main room gets crowded to all hell and no one can dance or see anything. You either have the headliner go on at 11 p.m. or 6 a.m. (whichever time you think will be more inconvenient). As a result, I paid my 12 euros last night to see Doppler Effekt and only got to see 5 minutes of them because you put them before every other musician in the line up, a time when most people haven't even left their houses to go out. What gives? I'm done with you. Go to hell.

The Auslanderbehorde Disapproves of My Nationality...

But will give me a work permit anyway! That's right, I got my arbeitslaubnis (work permit) today so I can begin work just as soon as my boss contacts me and says she has a class for me. Yay! It was a pretty tame day at the auslanderbehorde (foreign resident's office)- a line around the block an hour and a half before the doors were even open and then, once the golden hour finally arrived, everyone rushed the door cutting in front of people ruthlessly to get to the head of the line. Guh. Something odd: there was a notice on the pole in front of the building that said that persons of certain nationalities would not be serviced today as there was a strike coinciding with 9/11. These nationalities included: Arabic, American, Afghanistan, Iraqi, Iranian, and Israeli among others. The notice said something about terrorism but was hard for me to translate as it was written in very formal Deutsch with lots of long, conjoined words. Luckily, the strike did not apply to me as I already had an appointment. Still, I think that is pretty lame. Many Americans do not approve of this war, and many of the other nationalities they listed probably don't either. I mean, why do you think we left our own country?

Fury in the Slaughterhouse: Lightning Fields: A Pirate Bar

We've been busy the past couple days because my good friend Avri and his friend Cliff came to stay with us on Thursday. The main goal of their trip (in addition to seeing me/Berlin) was to go to a concert for a band that Cliff has been a huge fan of for many many years called Fury in the Slaughterhouse. The concert was on Friday and we rented a car and drove for hours in traffic and rain (or I should say Carlos drove for hours in traffic and rain) to Hannover. The concert itself was maybe not my biggest cup of tea. But I think Cliff at least had a good time as the band dedicated a song to him for coming all the way from America (and the drummer's wife later called him insane). Carlos and I had a pretty miserable time as we did not have backstage passes and spent much of the time after the concert dodging drunken Hannoverins and trying to figure out where the car was in the rain. We didn't get back until 5 and fell asleep upon arrival. After returning the car the next day, we realized we had paid over 200 euros for the whole experience, which is about 75 dollars each. This morning on the table there was a note written to Carlos from Avri stating his gratitude and suggesting that we had all gotten into more than we had bargained for.

On Saturday, Los and I went to the Sugimoto exhibit at the Neu National Gallery. Sugimoto was at the De Young Museum last year so a lot of the works on display we had already seen. But his newest segment, Lightning Fields, is simply amazing. Negatives of photos of lightning bolts were hung in front of a lit screen (much in the same way x-rays are observed by doctors). The result is that you can see all the "fibers" of the bolts, and the intricate root-like patterns mirrored in other bolts. It was pretty amazing. We took home a poster of his picture of the diorama at Madame Tussards of Henry the 8th. Sugimoto's website is here in case you want to take a look: http://www.sugimotohiroshi.com/ We also saw a temporary exhibit on Rupprecht Geiger who is now 100 years old and experimenting with bright neon colors that are almost too much for human perception. Take that young people.

Sunday we tried to find fun stuff in Berlin amuse our visitors with, but as it was raining not much could be found. We mostly ended up wandering trying to find the Jewish Museum but never did. We stopped at Yaam (a reggae club that was supposed to be having a festival) which was nearly vacant and infested with bees. Los went home. The rest of us went to a pirate bar and had drinks while waiting for a band featuring a violin, guitar, drumset, accordian, and a unicycle (or so we thought) to set up. While waiting, one of Berlin's colorful locals with a bit too much alcohol in 'em came over and started talking to us about the Police. He started off by singing "Sending out an SOS" (which was the song currently on the itunes shuffle lazily abandoned by the bartender). Then he crouched down in front of the table so he was eye level with us and told us how he had seen Sting play at the Ziegman Sea (?) in Overalls(!) And do you know what he was singing?" he asked us incredulously. "No, what?" "He was singing..." his voice escalated rapidly to the point where he was screaming, "about the RHINE!" The small, disinterested waitress came over and with a wristful series of hand gestures told the gentleman to leave. We decided at this point to leave and went to Burgermeister (a sub-metro hamburger joint where railings with padding = seats) for dinner where we overheard a festival band doing covers of "Jump, Jump" "Just Like A Pill" and other songs featured in "NOW" CDs. We went back to the Pirate Bar to see if the unicycle band was up an running. It was, but only in the usual way bar bands are. We left. Went home. Fell asleep.

Liquidrom

I'm going here tomorrow because I neeeed it, damnit.

My 4th of July

-Fireworks: none (naturally)
-Drinks consumed: 1 glass rose, 0,5 liters Hefeweisen
-Strangers hitting on my friend Sandra who insisted on sitting at our table and holding long awkward conversations with her: 05
-Languages spoken (by me): 04 (by others): 06
-Insults (re: Bush and / or the USA): 11
-Insults (re: my appearance / my gemischt gypsy heritage): 03
-Returned Home: EARLY - approx. 12:30
-Rain: constant, but unenthusiastic.

My Marriage to the Berlin Wall

This is interesting. And weird. And interesting:
http://www.berlinermauer.se/BerlinWall/tragedy.htm
Full explanation here: http://www.algonet.se/~giljotin/explan.html

I've heard more than a few people say they preferred things when Berlin was divided, and have heard many say the opposite as well, but I've NEVER heard of anyone going so far as to declare the wall, both seriously and passionately, is their husband.

Fussball Madness

Turkey won the game. At least, I assume so from the fireworks, the frantic screaming, and the overwhelming chorus of honking horns. Luckily, I'm still alive.

Sportscrazy

It is fussball season and the fans out on the street in front of my house have just gone crazy. Turkey won the game and now very car within a 5 mile radius is honking, people are screaming, and the sounds of fireworks ripping through the air like gun shots disturbs the storm moist summer night. Is this really the end of a fussball game or the start of a war?

May Day

Today is May Day. A day when young people fill the streets in celebration, angst, and comradery- throwing bottles and punching each other in the face. I just saw about 40 cops go by on motorcycles, in cars, and vans. We leave for Praha in a couple hours. It is rainy.

My Big American Shopping List

Before I begin the list, let me note that the conversion rate from euro to dollar is pretty horrendous. It has been getting worse every day since I arrived, meaning that my rent goes up about $10 per month. The rate is now somewhere around 1 euro = $1.60. Hence, all the ridiculous shit I need to buy from home (I've included the price change in parenthesis so you can see what I mean).

Things To Buy (price in Berlin noted- to be continued)
ROOT BEER (non-existent)
Tortillas (5 euro =$7.50 for 5 flour tortillas in Berlin- corn tortillas non-existent)
Refried Beans (vegetarian / canned) (non-existent)
Bottles of Tylenol / Ibuprofen (9 euro = $12 for 18 caplets)
Sammy hair gel (non-existent)
Biore strips / face wash (non-existent)
New shoes: boots, sneaks (50 euro - 80 euro = $75 - $120)
Socks (4 euro per pair = $6.00)
American to European Adapter (Carlos needs it for his "gear")
Shower Rod (it's like $45 here! Dude!)

Things to Bring
Carlos's XLR Cables (Brandon has these)
My backpack
Tape measure
Carlos's rice cooker

Things I Need To Do
-Get a hair cut (30 euro here = $45 although the real issue isn't money but explaining to the hair dresser what I want. Carlos thinks this is silly and that I should just get "the Berlinette" cut:)

-Get a new copy of my Driver's License (mine is wrinkled and bent from stuffing it in my pocket all the time!)

Ich bin Auslander und spreche nicht gut Deutsch.

So I started school this week. It is interesting... The VHS (Volkshochschule) is something like a community college where people come to learn everything from knitting to cooking to, in my case, intensive German.
Today we sang a song to the tune of "She'll be coming around the mountain when she comes..." which went:
"Ich bin Auslander und spreche nicht gut Deutsch...
Ich bin Auslander und spreche nicht gut Deutsch...
Ich verstehe nicht was sie sagen
Bitte, sprechen sie mehr langsam
Ich bin Auslander und spreche nicht gut Deutsch."
Half of the class is Italian, and half are Turkish, and a small percentage are various other things (yes, there are three halves to my class). There is only one other American and native English speaker in the class, but all the Italian folk speak English quite well. They also seem to hate me. I think it is because I am borrowing Carlos's camo-print bag until I can afford to buy my own. Perhaps they think I'm some kind of war loving crazy?
That's not all. Yesterday the teacher asked me how many states were in the United States now (because it is plural - DEN USA) "56?" She asked. "More!" I said, making a joke about her overestimate. "No, no," she responded, "Iraq doesn't count."
Another faux pas was made earlier this morning when I suggested to one of the Italian students that they install a good ol' cafe / restaurant in the school, preferably one serving scrambled eggs. The joke was not responded to in kind. He said, "But you are in Europe now and we don't eat those things. If you want scrambled eggs then maybe you should go to London."
The Italian students are somewhat hard to relate to. For one, the Italian breakfast consists of cigarettes and black coffee. I think if I was from New York maybe I'd be able to fit in a little more. At least we both share a love of abstract art and electronic music. Oh yah, 30% of the class are electronic musicians. Apparently you can't call yourself an electronic musician in Deutsch because "musician" only applies to people who play classical instruments: piano, guitar, etc. Instead, you are supposed to refer to yourself as an "electronic music producer." Sure, sure.
I ran into one of my fellow classmates at an Indian restaurant today. Apparently he is a chef there. He gave Carlos and I 2 rounds of free highly alcoholic drinks, some extra naan, and changed the price of our normal dinner to a "kinder dinner" knocking off about 50%. I will buy him coffee tomorrow as a way of saying thanks.
Travel plans: 1. I'm going to Prague May 1 - 4. May 1st is a disaster in Kreuzberg, the somewhat more angsty / punky part of Berlin where I happen to live. It is a kind of "hate day" where people parade, riot, party, and generally EXPRESS their angst over whatever it is they are angsty about. Bottles are thrown. Cars are tipped. And so I intend to get the fuck out. I'll be visiting my friend Tom who I haven't seen in a bunch of years. He's super chill. It'll be good to see him.
2. I'll be in the states from May 11 - May 18th (or around then) as it turns out I have no school this week due to Pentecost. See you soon meinen freundin!

Happy Mice

To follow up on the jail house f*ck bed, here is a mouse pad from Rahaus, which is more or less an Ikea alternative. Great for the home or office. Not so great for impressing the ladies.

Dirty German Bed Designers

Was innocently looking for bed frames when I came across this (warning not safe for work!!!):

http://www.etage7.com/product_info.php/info/p95_JAILHOUSE-FUCK.html

Got My Visa!

It was 7 AM (opening time) and the Ausländerbehörde (Visa Office) was crowded in all three waiting rooms. Turkish babies were crying. British expats were crying. And the machines that gently beep to let you know a new number is coming up kept breaking down. After only a couple hours of waiting, Carlos came out with a big smile on his face and a shiny new visa in his passport. Unable to resist the temptation to pry, I asked him what had gone on in there, if it had been violent, if they had made him give blood, urine, semen? He told me they didn't even ask him any questions, really, just handed the thing over. I, however, had to wait 6 hours only to be told by some German lady who didn't speak English that I needed some document of some kind and would have to come back in a few weeks after I'd obtained whatever it was. Not being the kind of person to give up my time that easily, I decided to take a new number, wait another hour, and try my luck talking to someone else. After tossing around some documents regarding my school enrollment, funds, and health insurance, I was given a visa for one year. I'm very happy to be done with this. I wouldn't wish the Ausländerbehörde upon even my worst enemies.

I Was Drugged

Although this is very personal, I feel like sharing this in hopes it may cause people I know to be more careful at parties, bars, and clubs so that this sort of thing doesn't happen to you. Last night a few friends of mine went out to a club called Weekend. While at the club, my friend and I were slipped something in our drink, possibly by the bartender (the only drink I remember us both having were shots of whiskey that we couldn't pay for because my friend had left her wallet at home- the bartenders said "it's okay, as long as you have a drink with us"). My friend had already had a good amount to drink so it acted on her very fast. She started acting strangely- becoming hyper talkative (esp. to strangers), flirty, and falling down. I too, fell down a lot and was more hyper than usual, but in the end was able to overcome most of the effects of the drug due to the concern for my friend and not having had as much to drink. At one point she passed out and wouldn't open her eyes. We had to force water down her throat, get her heart rate up, and call an ambulance. We waited in the emergency room all night and most of the morning. At around noon she woke up and was able to walk home with us. She doesn't remember much of what happened, but we know that she was not raped as we were very attentive to her once we realized something was up. The drug I believe we were slipped is called Rohypnol. It is a legal sleep aid here in Europe. It is illegal in the states, but that does not stop people from bringing it in illegaly. This drug can cause memory loss, loss of muscle control, and possibly death. I'm very glad that we both survived this experience relatively unharmed and that we had friends there with us to take care of us. Needless to say, I will not be drinking nor clubbing for some time, and the next time I do I will act a good deal smarter.

New Apartment

We have a new apartment. But, we have no kitchen, no fridge, no oven, no bed frame, no dresser, no nothin' really. Oh wait, we did buy a couch and a sink that will require some assembly. Tomorrow we will have a fridge and a washing machine. And the day after that, we will have the world.

SO36 Bilder

Spaceman


Brick walls

Mission Accomplished

1. Went to an interview for a job as a Business English Trainer (they gave me some tips on where to go for my intensive course and told me to come back in 4 months when I speak German)
2. Signed the lease for the new apartment (the rental agency gave us a free bottle of wine as a welcome gift! Can you imagine a landlord in the bay area doing something like that?)
3. Decided on a health insurance plan (which is actually pretty cheap if paid in USD as the conversion rate is not up to date- awesome)
4. Went grocery shopping at the Turkish Market- 1 euro each for bay leaves, chili, and other necessary spices. Not to mention: I love the Italian pasta guy. $4.50 for a ton of handmade pasta with truffle filling? Also: decided to get a pint of the freshly made hummus. That stuff goes fast.
5. Reserved a spot for both Carlos and I in the VHS intensive course. I think this will do just fine as for getting us our student visa. The instructor said so herself, and a few others have mentioned it would be okay.

Apartment Found!

To add more confusing ups n downs to this week (see last post) we got a call from the rental agency that we got the apartment we wanted near Hermannplatz. So this is good because now we have a place to live, but a bit confusing because we'll have to find people to help us move things as Carlos is in no shape to do things and I am a tiny (but fierce!) woman. The apartment is VERY big and includes 3 large rooms so we'll have a room for Carlos to use as a music studio once he returns to full Carlos strength. It has tall ceilings, balcony street-facing windows, lots of light, and a whirlpool bathtub. The big drawback to the place (and the reason we weren’t 100% on applying) is that the kitchen room is a bit dirty, and there are no appliances (none) or counters in the kitchen. We'll have to find our own stove, refrigerator, countertops, washer/dryer, and sink in addition to the usual items one expects to have at home: bed, couch, dresser, tables, appliances, etc. Fun fun! The rent is pretty cheap by Bay Area standards- around $1200. I can't imagine what an apartment like this would cost us back home. But then, the one big thing Berlin has going for it is how cheap housing is. In fact Miguel says we're the first couple he's met who pay MORE in Berlin than they did in the Bay Area. But having lived for 1 year in a 1-room studio for $900, I think we're due for a nice place with lots of room. Tomorrow we sign the lease to move in on the 10th. Woo hoo!

A Trip To Tropical Islands & The Emergency Room

Carlos had an accident at Tropical Islands yesterday (this water fun park outside of Berlin) on one of the water slides. The slide malfunctioned and he was stranded on the slide for 10 seconds when two guys came down behind him, hitting him in the back. They took him to the emergency room to see if he had any broken bones or anything, but luckily it turned out to be damage to muscle tissue, not bone. The whole ordeal was awful- the ambulance, seeing him in a stretcher, not being able to make out what the medics or park personnel were saying... And the whole process was delayed at several points because they kept shoving paperwork in our faces- paperwork we couldn't read but had to sign before they would help him. This was supposed to be our chance to relax after all this craziness with visas and house hunting. Instead it turned out to be a nightmare. I'm so glad he's okay. He could have been seriously injured, and I'm very lucky (we're both lucky) that he's alright. Today we're trying to take it easy and relax, but it's not easy. I can't believe that little kids are going on these slides where there are no lifeguards present and there are no medical emergency personnel on site. I also can't believe that the park isn't going to cover any of it (which is what the manager said to us point blank before they loaded Carlos into the ambulance). Hopefully Carlos's insurance will cover most of it and the bills won't add even more to the stressful situation. I suppose these things happen to us when our number is up. I know many of you have had even worse things to deal with this year. I can't imagine what I would be like right now if it had been anything worse... I'm on edge enough right now as it is, but so so happy it isn't worse.

Missing You

It's been almost a month and it's started to sink in that I'm not going home. I've been thinking about some of the people I miss already. You know who you are. We found an apartment but the deposit / first month's rent is going to make quite a dent in my savings. It's really big, though, and there's a 3rd room so Carlitos can have his music studio. I found out that the class I was planning to take at the VHS won't cut it for a student visa. They say it's not enough hours even though it's the same number of hours as any other language school. I'm confused. I think they're just saying that if I'm going to stay here I need to be putting enough money into the German economy. I'm going to start health insurance next month. I decided to go with general care and long-term care, but am not sure about dental. I need dental work done. I have 3 fillings left to be filled. Miguel said if I need some extra cash and can't find anything else he'd consider offering me some p/t work for Tigerbeat6. That sounds awesome, and like something I could do. Every day I wake up to a white and gray sky barely shedding light through the window. There are spiraling naked ivy branches infectiously spread across the wall blocking my view. I wonder if anyone ever trims them and if they'll grow green in the spring. I look at the clock to see it's 2 pm, and that I've slept half the day off. I take a bath and read Goethe and wonder about the ways I'm related to young Werther, the lost romantic, the aimless artist, the child-like poet. I drink coffee with Milka chocolate in it for breakfast because I don't want to spend $4.50 on a half-carton of eggs that won't taste good without salt anyway. I start to wonder how my friends in America are spending their morning. And then I realize they're all asleep.

Journey To The Center of the Kit Kat Club

Okay, so Carlos and I had been joking for a long time about going to the Kit Kat Club- home of Berlin's most well-known, long-loved S&M /kink / fetishy-type szene. Although Carlos and I are certainly not leading each other around the house via dog collar or strapping each other to that awful 1990s couch in our boarding house, the Kit Kat Club has such tremendous noteriety that I figured, as new neighbors, going there was a necessary part of our initiation as Berliners.

(Above: Dresscode for the Kit Kat Club)
Firstly, let me say that I have never been to the Kit Kat's sister club in San Francisco- The Power Exchange, but I imagine the Kit Kat Club is a lot like it in certain ways. There were lots of naked people, lots of half-naked people, a few trannys, some people having sex upstairs, girls in their underwear, vinyl, leather, nurse costumes, cop costumes, and a plethora of odd decorations such as gynecology chairs and metal toilets strewn throughout the black, humid interior. The walls were painted in elaborate blacklight sensitive murals with men, women, and everything in between partaking in a myriad of activities in the "done while naked" category. After I got over the initial shock of seeing nude, untethered penis flopping this way and that I realized that most of the clientele were actually pretty respectful of each other's space. Of course there were two things that helped with this. A) Most of the men there were gay men, and B) there were a great deal of couples dotting the dance floor. I never once had anyone try to grab me, or even hit on me, although I can't say the same of Carlos who is like a bunny at the dog tracks to clean cut gay men and trashy goth girls. Another thing- the music was quite good, resident DJs DramaNui (sassy redhead) and Clark Kent (butch gay extraordinaire) spinning a mix of electro, mashup, and techno that wasn't too cheesy or too eclectic, but frightfully danceable. I was a little disappointed to find only two dance floors as the Kit Kat Club recently took over the notorious Sage Club (which used to have 4 floors of banging techno with a pool in the middle from what I hear) but this is the nature of the unstoppable metamorphosis that is the Berlin club scene. We arrived at 2 and left sometime around 5, needing to escape the unbearable humidity, not to mention rest our feet and morals. I can't say I'm planning on becoming a regular, but could certainly see myself wandering in here on one of those nights that needs more craziness or leather men.

Electroclas & Bikes @ MauerPark

Our first week has been full of excitement, adventure and bicycles. More specifically, yesterday we went to the flea market with Miguel aka: Kid606 and bought bikes. It was the first time we had really been out in a few days due to partying as hard as we do during the weekdays (par example: Friday we saw Mochipet and stayed out until 8 in the morning at a bar called Molotov Cocktail which serves actual flaming bottles of sweet sweet fury!). It was nice to be awake before 3 for a change, and get to do something productive. The flea market gave me chills as it reminded me so much of the Ashby fleamarket in Berkeley from the hipsters digging through tables of retro clothing to the herbal mineral supplements in hand-labeled brown glass jars. As our main purpose was to get bikes, I decided to stick to that this time around, although I did develop a fancy for many of the hand-made animals, t-shirts and dolls which I may have to go back for. Carlos lucked out and got a really nice old-fashioned blue town bike. I got what the man who sold it to me said was a kid's bike, but as Miguel claims I'm "the size of a kid anyway" so I guess it's okay >^_^< We rode the bikes home, avoiding the touristy mess that is Alexanderplatz, and got lach crepes in Mitte for lunch. One odd thing I noticed about my bike on the ride home is that the splash guard has a screw loose and so when I go fast it rattles and sounds like shooting bullets. Even stranger, when I put the brakes on the tires make a whizzing sound like a bomb dropping. This has led me to the conclusion that my bike is apparently possessed by World War One. Be this as it may, it'll be so nice to have a(n inexpensive) way to get around town (apparently u-bahn monthly passes cost 70 euro - about 100 bucks!) Now I just need to get some turtlenecks and big goofy hats to keep the wind from destroying my face while riding my bike in winter.
0.o Speaking of housing, today we're going to look at a sublet right down the street from us. I hope it works out! We have to give notice on the 15th if we're planning to move out, and hopefully we are. It's not that I don't like the boarding house but I'd like to find a permanent place so I can start settling in.

We have a new apartment & our manager is dead

It's true. We arrived on Friday only to find that the reason our latest emails hadn't been answered by the manager is that he died 5 days ago. His wife and the hausmeister Mr. Kropp have been taking care of things, but haven't been able to really get things up to speed just yet. In light of the circumstances, we were moved into a new, larger apartment (twice as large, to be precise) which has a bathtub, balcony, and full kitchen with dishwasher. Unfortunately, the wireless issue has become an issue as only Carlos can get internet for any extended period of time in the apartment. The hausmeister has let me use his office (which is a small chilly room located in another building across the courtyard) for internet until he can get the gentleman who handles these sorts of things to, erm, handle it- although Herr Kropp recently informed me that this gentleman is currently busy with installing a new kitchen and therefor it might be sometime before we can get this whole thing straightened out. So far we've taken a few trips out into the city- once or twice out to dinner, and a long walk to Club Maria- yet another old-warehouse-turned-club where we saw Mouse on Mars & Vitalic. Needless to say, it was a pretty damn amazing thing. I ran into Kid606 (who I've been calling "unkie miguel" on account of the fact that he's been very accomodating of all of our silly touristy-type questions- despite the fact that he is a super star DJ). We're going to get cheapo bikes at the flea market on Sunday even though it is very cold, and I may freeze to death riding it back home. Carlos has been freaking out about visas pretty regularly. I had to buy him dinner at Schwartes Cafe a couple nights ago to get him to chill out. He seems to be doing better, having resigned himself to signing up for a language course in order to get the student visa. I think it's a much better plan that living under the raydar, as the german's seem to have some pretty serious fucking raydar. We're going to get registered on Thursday (the law requires that you register within 7 days with the foreign authorities office). This won't give us a visa or anything- that will all come later once we have a more permanent place to live and have paid for school. School, by the way, doesn't start until April. I think with 25 channels of public access documentary style work programming on the tele I'm going to be pretty bored for the next couple months, and unfortunately it's too damn cold to be frolicking around just for the hell of it.

Tonight Packing, Tomorrow Berlin

Tonight is our last night in this apartment. We're leaving at 6 in the morning to go to the airport. Checking in may be a problem as we have one-way tickets, but I've gathered quite a thick packet of documentation to argue with in case we need it. Another problem may be the weight of my suitcase. I have no idea how much it weighs. That's how heavy it is. I'm only bringing one checked luggage though, so hopefully they won't give me much trouble and if it's a female representative, I can just tell her it's the shoes and she'll understand. Carlos is still packing. The apartment is messy despite all efforts to clean it. I feel exhausted from carrying things to and from the garbage, leaving things out in the ally, and generally running around tearing my hair out. Tonight there were so many things we had to get rid of that I put them all on Craigslist under the free section. For those who aren't familiar with the crazy people on craigslist, allow me to enlighten you. Craigslist is full of jobless, worthless, extremely horny people, several of whom's only purpose in life is to troll the free section looking for junk. Once they find it, they wait outside your door, salivating at the mouth, screaming at you "Where's that toaster you said you had? Where's the fucking toaster??? I drove all the way from El Cerito!" This is why we don't put a "reply to" address, and heaven help you if you should leave your phone number. Yikes. We were planning to go out to Ryoko's tonight, our favorite sushi restaurant in the San Francisco. I've heard Berlin has one sushi restaurant as well, and that it's okay. And for dessert we have a bottle of port that we got in Napa quite some time ago. But this is provided we can take care of everything that needs taking care of. Carlos swears he will haul the mattress downstairs at 6 in the morning. We shall see. All n' all, I'm part scared, part exhausted, and part curious (that's 3 parts!) about how smoothly this all will go. The flight itself is a monster- 1. San Francisco to Seattle where we have a 6 hour layover 2. Seattle to Copenhagen (Denmark for those who are terrible at geography) where we have only 55 minutes to get through EU customs AND catch our next flight from 3. Copenhagen to Berlin Germany upon where we will take a rather expensive cab ride to our boarding house in Kreuzberg, shower, and collapse exhausted in our new land. Till we meet again, USA!

We're Going to Marrakesh

Marrakech or Marrakesh (مراكش Marrakesh), known as the "Red City" or "Al Hamra," is a city with a population of 1,036,500 (as of 2006) in southwestern Morocco, near the foothills of the Atlas Mountains. Marrakesh is also known as "The City of Gold." ... And we are "going there" on the 27th of March, or at least so it will look to anyone wanting to see our travel itinerary. Why? Because Carlos and I made the mistake of getting one-way tickets into Germany. Silly us, we wanted to save a few hundreds of dollars, but have since learned that it is possible to get deported if you do not have a return ticket when traveling to the EU. Although it is unlikely that they will even ask us to see a return ticket, if they do we can now at least say that we're exiting the EU. The tickets were only 25 euro (including taxes!) on Ryanair.com- they had other tickets that were actually 0.01 Euro (no shit) but these were for single passengers only, and we thought it might look suspicious if we took seperate flights. This is the weirdest solution to an honest problem I've ever come up with. It still might not work, but it's more likely to work than having our tickets leave us in Germany. Am I going nuts?

2 weeks

I am leaving in 14 days. Packing is almost done already, despite having had a sprained ankle for the past week. I wish I hadn't packed up my hair dryer already and definitely should have eaten lunch today. The people on Toytown tell me there is no peanut butter, root beer, or nachos in Germany. They suggest I try to blend in and develop a taste for curry wurst. Through the glory of the internet, I've met an Aussie who is moving to Berlin in March. Maybe we will be friends.