Still Here

Hallo my Geliebte and Lebensgefährten, and Hallo to everybody else too.

I’m still in Berlin. This is a strange thing.

The Vacation Effect has worn off, and I’m gradually becoming a kind of a resident of this city. All the little things are falling into place: I no longer have to work real hard to negotiate public transit, or manage my food intake-to-money output ratio, or not get yelled at by people on bicycles for treading on one of Berlin’s varied and ever-shifting bicycle paths (I think they lead different places at different times of day, like the stairways at Hogwarts).

I suppose I am internalizing German etiquette, like all the tiny rules and guidelines for social interaction that everyone unconsciously sticks to. These are the kinds of rules that never get written down because everybody knows them already, and because they are so subtle and complex that they can’t really be taught or explained—like the Matrix, you have to see them for yourself. Ordering at a restaurant, or asking for directions, or inquiring as to what particular breed of dog that is, without seeming like a foreigner or a lunatic, takes a lot of cognitive processing. You have to observe dozens of factors—time of day, weather, location, your own appearance, your target’s age and social standing and general mien, etc—and translate that into an approach—with proper eye contact, phrasing and tone, body position, etc—that will lead to a successful interaction, and not a lot of funny looks, or shouting, or mean-spirited laughter.

In our home culture, we do all this work unconsciously and relatively effortlessly. It has taken me about 3 weeks of immersion to work my way up to “man-child” status, but hey, that still beats “babbling madman.” Maybe next I’ll make my way up to “slow but friendly 12-year-old,” then “evil hillbilly."

Pro: These little rules and rituals are the glue and mortar of society. The fact that I have adjusted my thought patterns to this very foundational bit of Germanness bodes well for further adjustments and assimilations.

Con: There is a thin line between comfort and boredom. Luckily this is a big ol country that should afford me plenty of opportunities to continue making a fool of myself.

Let’s see let’s see what else what else:

1. Successful Interactions With Old People
A. I saw these three old dudes play some New Orleans jazz to a very enthused crowd of the young and drunken and European.
I think the trumpet-player (center) was the bandleader, and the trombonist probably had the greatest contrast between semi-doddering appearance and powerful lusty tromboning, but the scrawny clarinetist was the most happenin’, in my opinion.

B. I bought a bicycle! Here he is in front of a bronze goat:(fun fact: those legs in the upper left belong to a couple who were totally making out at sunset in this very crowded plaza.)

I found an ad for this particular silver streaker on a craigslist-sort of a website and called up the very old man who was looking to sell it. We had a hell of a time figuring out exactly where I was supposed to go—he lives on the awfully Frenchy-sounding Rue Georges Vallary, and when I couldn’t decipher his wheezy, shouty German/French he began to spell out “Rue Georges Vallary” in what I gradually realized was a sort of call-sign alphabet made up of German names, as in “RICHARD ULRICH EDWIN” stood for “R-U-E”—but once I made it out to his place and saw this bike, everything was clear as day.
It is so pretty. Mr. Schlegelmilch (rougly, Mallet-milk) told me that it had been his bike for many years, and that he was only selling it now because he was no longer healthy enough to ride it. I can tell that this bike has been loved—everything is still oiled and smooth, the dynamo and lights are in working order, and it even came with a little leather tool kit strapped beneath the seat—and it was pretty sad to see old Mr. Schlegelmilch trade a friend for 50 Euro. BUT his time with this bike was over, and he knew it, and I like to think he’s happy knowin’ this old Ariston will be getting some use and not rusting in a junk heap.

C. An old dude gave me a smile and a thumbs-up when I passed him on my run today. I’m not sure why. But it was nice.

2. Other Photos
A. Spring finally reared its head in Berlin today, and the people were nicer and dogs were out (I saw not one, but TWO pugs on my run!), and we finally got a some proper morning sunshine, as you can see here lighting up the Berlin Cathedral:And a proper sunset, as you can see here glowing orange beside the mighty Television Tower.
While waiting to buy TP at the supermarket I took a picture of all the little bottles of liquor they make you stare at instead of tabloids or candy bars.Some empty suits of armor on one of the innumerable classical palaces along the Museuminsel (Museum Island).
Finally, I liked this no-nonsense K with arms akimbo.He looks patient, but mildly perturbed, as if you are doubting whether or not his business is "so gut." “Look. I know it is so good. You know it is so good. We have established this: it is so good. Now can we Please. Move. On.”