Don’t Tase Me, Bro!

This is appalling.

I awoke at 6am on my second day in Berlin. After breakfast, a smörgäsbord of fruits, cheeses, breads and meats, I met Flannery at the Köhlerstraße bus stop down the street around 9. We took a series of double-decker public busses to the Studentenforum, where Dr. Jacobsen gave us a lecture about the Berliner Mauer (Berlin wall) and the dichotomy that still exists between the inhabitants of east and west Berlin. We watched a video (Modern Marvels: The Berlin Wall!!), most likely chosen not for its academic strength, but because Dr. Jacobsen himself is interviewed several times. We boarded a Mercedes van and took a not-so-brief and not-so-entertaining tour of the city. The voluble Dr. J performed tourguide duties, which would have been fine had he held the microphone just an extra inch or so away from his mouth. His thirst for the spotlight and subsequent logorrhea resulted in snores from the back of the bus about an hour into the tour. We were dropped off at the Brandenburger Tor around 3. I hadn’t really thought about what I was going to do the rest of the evening, so I was relieved (and flattered) that Marianna (my professor) invited me to accompany her to lunch and to purchase theater tickets for later that evening. Ever the professor, she obdurately made me ask for directions and navigate to the theater without her intercedence while we chatted about our respective travel experiences. We managed to secure two tickets to Emilia Galotti for that evening and Marianna even paid for mine.

The theater was gorgeous; the ceiling must have been five stories tall, with paintings of famous German dramatists surrounding a chandelier bigger than my car. The play, though an 18th century play by Lessing, was performed in a very modern style, making it much easier for me to follow. High-brow physical comedy helped keep me awake. Translations were whispered to me during the lacunae of each act. I took the S-Bahn from Oranienburgerstraße back to Lichterfelde West and went to bed early.

I was supposed to meet my group at 9:30 yesterday morning at the Wannsee S-Bahn station to go to Potsdam, but I 1.) set my alarm for PM rather than AM, and 2.) sprained my ankle so I didn’t feel like running to try to make it on time. Instead, Claudia and I traversed to Oranienburger Tor and Auguststraße to check out some of the modern galleries that they have to offer. Claudia, an artist herself, asked many questions of the artists and gallery owners that we met. We had brunch, then creeped through the miasma of freezing rain, arm-in-arm at times, while I struggled to follow her narrations and monologues (full of malapropisms) about the neighborhood’s history. It gets dark here so early that I was shocked to learn it was only 8 when we returned home. I made party plans with Jacob for the evening, instructed him to wake me when he was ready to leave, and napped.

I awoke at 11 to an empty house. Had Jacob left without me? I was a little miffed that nobody had informed me of anything, it being Saturday night and all. The last thing I wanted to hear was an apology, but I called Jacob to see what the deal was. He was indeed at a birthday party, but suggested that we go out later. I agreed to meet him at Schöneberg at 1:45 (which was still early as bars and clubs do not close until 8 or 9am). We took a train and a bus to a club called Havanna. Jacob was in the middle of a dispute with his girlfriend, making it twice as awkard for me because I was already nervous about being the new guy that isn’t fluent in German. The club was lame, the music was lame, the beer selection was lame, and Jacob’s querulous pouting was lame. We didn’t stay long. Highlights included dancing to J5’s “I Want You Back” and talking politics with two germans both named Phil in the smoking section of the club.

I had no intentions of returning home so early, and despite the emotional malaise of the group was still feeling invigorated from my nap. I suggested a remedy of more beer; the German panacea! Karim was the only one that took me up on the offer, and took me to Schwarze Cafe near the Zoologische Garten. They had Augustiner Helles! My favorite beer! The sole brewery is in München and was founded in 1328. I had a liter of the stuff and waxed philosophical with Karim about politics, poetry, the German education system, and eastern Europe. Two gentlemen at the table next to us were “hacke” (piss drunk) and begging for raillery. We acquiesced and toyed with them auf Deutsch und auf Englisch. They were a mess. I footed the bill and got home around 7am.

I’m terribly excited for classes to start tomorrow morning so that I can improve my speaking ability. Although I’ve only been here a few days, I’ve noticed drastic improvements in my reading and listening comprehension, but I’m still a little self-conscious about my accent and grammar mistakes. This week should see a huge improvement in both my vocabulary and sentence-building.