Acculturalization

Where am I when I can listen to NPR, conduct work everyday in English, stay in touch with old friends from my childhood? Can I be in Berlin, living abroad?

Why, asks my Polish hausmeister in German, am I living in Berlin? Why indeed.

Things I must do:
1) learn German. Sure, I can joke around with my hausmeister and debrouiller at Ikea, but I am not very good at the simple stuff. I speak shitty pigeon German. Its funny, but stupid.
2) Make more German friends (outside of work)
3) Get a German boyfriend (which will help me with point 1)
4) join a club (Muay Thai?) or gym to build community

To be fair, I have a really nice community here. There are the dog friends, the cafe friends, the work friends the old friends. I feel more a part of Berlin than I ever did in Amsterdam (or Moscow or Shanghai...)

I am really happy here in Berlin. It's the right place for right now.

So maybe the 'why are you here' question can wait on its answer. I'm figuring that out.

Lins + Lula

No, they don't live here in Berlin.

I surprised Lins when I was in the US last August, showing up at her door a couple of hours before her housewarming party.

It was one of those great Chicago nights, and LLH has an amazing view onto a park.

And of course, Lins cooked absolutely everything-- even crackers -- and it was ridiculously delicious.

Can't wait for her visit to Berlin!

Oh I forgot!

I saw Clive Owen at Tegel, right before I jumped on my plane to Istanbul earlier this month (September)

He was in town shooting 'The International' with Tom Tykwa, the guy who did 'Run Lola Run.'

Mother Knows Best

I think my mother might be the only one that reads this blog, so I am going to write her a letter here:

Dear Mom,
Hallo from Berlin! Diego and I are enjoying the fine fall weather. It's been gorgeous and sunny here in Mitte. Sometimes I feel like I should be a student again: the smell of fall, with the changing leaves and chill in the air, makes me think of school. Not college, because then I would have to smell the subway, taxi exhaust, and pretzels. But school. I guess anytime from when I wa 5-18. Remember those days? I'll bet you are have a nice fall in S (New England suburb).

Today I had a real stupid moment:. I misread my itinerary and missed my flight to Leeds. I read my German itinerary several times and understood that the flight was leaving at 6:45 am, and that I should be there by 6:15. Well, I transposed the numbers and the flight actually left at 6:15-- I was supposed to be there at 5:45am.

I haven't missed a flight since I went to visit Carol Farmer in 1992. Big Guy rewarded me for doing so well in summer school with a long weekend in Boca. I was so exhausted from my exams that I checked into my flight, bought a Rolling Stone, sat at my gate while they called my flight (and it departed). I looked up from an article about The Boss (I don't even really like Bruce Springsteen) and realized that I missed my flight, even though I was sitting right there.

The ticket counter people laughed with me at my stupidity and gave me a business class flight down to Florida for the next day. It turned out well in the end.

On the positive side, I found out that it takes only 20 minutes to get to Tegel that early in the morning from my apartment.

I was able to do my briefing over the phone. Hopefully the film turned out alright. The producer called today and said everything went well.

I will never misread a German itinerary again.

Yesterday was 8 years, and tomorrow is Big Guy's birthday. Even though I love this time of year, it's always a bit sad. How are you?

Alright, that's it for now. Miss you and can't wait for your visit.

xxoo,
Love,
Aph

Bella does Yoga at Barcomi's

Some people might eat bagels at Barcomi's, but Bella does yoga.

Countdown to Christmas

Christmas has officially hit Berlin.

In late September, I went shopping at Zene at Stilwerk and already there were Christmas decorations on display: tons and tons of multicolored glass ball ornaments and tasteful, design-y things for yuletide decor.

I will continue to countdown to Christmas here on these pages. Stay tuned.

Wildlife in Berlin

On Wednesday October 10, Diego found a hedgehog in the grass down the street. We were biking down the street and he stopped dead in his tracks and started barking.

Hedgehogs are ridiculously cute. So of course I made sure that Diego didn't get too close.

This is not the first wildlife sighting in Berlin.

This summer I saw a rabbit in Mon Bijou park, and just the other day, my friend saw a fox-- yes a fox-- outside his house in Gendarmenmarkt at 5am.

This is a funny city.

And because hedgehogs are so cute, I am posting a picture of one I found online. No, I did not pick up the wild German hedgehog.

Istanbul, not Constantinople

(I can't get that This Must be Giants song out of my head.)

I arrived in Istanbul 4 October for a quick weekend visit. Only 3 hours from Berlin, it's an easy trip to make.

I really didn't know what to expect. I bought my ticket only 2 days before arriving here, so I didn't do as much research into the area as I usually do.

I'll be here through Wed morning so there are still more sights, smells, and sounds to take in. I've been snapping lots of pictures so once I get back to Berlin I will post some impressions.

My first thought: I need to come back to Turkey and explore some more.

The Village

Berlin is small. Mitte is smaller.

It is really nice to live in such a cosmopolitan city where you see so many familiar faces everyday; the regulars at the (dog) park, the guy who makes my coffee, my neighbors. I love how Mitte feels like a little village, and I especially love my part of Mitte.

I wonder when/if it will ever feel too small?

Already people tell me 'oh I saw you at x' once. I think I will always have to be on my best behavior when I am out and about.

This is not LA, NYC or SF. This is a little big city. Are there any others?

Branding, what not to do

Berlinita or Berlinette? I'll have to fix that someday.

Home suss home

I am happy to be home in Berlin.

Ikea delivered the wrong shranks, my apartment is a mess, I can't access my clothes or cooking things, but I am thrilled to be home.

I think LA and I might have broken up during this last trip.

We can still be friends, right?

A Little Brilliance

After the excitement of a celebrity sighting, and the crush of mobile shopping at Saturn after work hours, I had a brilliant idea and bought Diego a blinking glow in the dark arm band from the bike shop. I strapped it around his neck and now he blinks and blinks as he runs around Mon Bijou in the darkness at 7:45pm.

Celebrity Citing

Is it stalking when you are too nervous to even acknowledge a celebrity?

Today I was riding my bike down Torstrasse with Diegito running beside me during working hours. Usually I ride my bike down the street once business hours are over, since I tend to work later. So this was a unique experience in itself.

I was daydreaming and staring in the shops when who should I see in the window of that repurposed kimono shop-- Suri!

Flabbergasted, I looked around-- no paparazzi-- and went in the shop. I always wanted to go inside, but it was always closed when I rode by before.

Upon entering, a gentle-ish German man spoke to me in German and pointed at Diego. What? I said. Was my dog friendly? he asked. Yes, why? I nervously responded as a handsome black man approached me (did this place have guards??) For the baby to grab, and pointed at Suri who was approaching Diego with Katie's kind-looking midwestern parents.

I was so surprised that the guards had directed my attention so suddenly to the child. She had a cookie in her hand, and I said yes Diego is very friendly and he likes cookies. Katie quickly came by and smiled and picked up the child. The parents smiled too. Smiles everyone, smiles!

I looked around and admired the dresses and didn't look at Katie and family much. She smiled a hello and I snuck out.

Is it stalking if you are too nervous to talk to a celebrity (even though you are in a foreign country and you usually blab to any/all foreigners you meet)?

Were those 'handlers' in the store S-gists?

Berlin- Los Angeles

Work has gotten very busy so I have not been able to update this blog as much as I had hoped. And now it has sent me back to LA so I will not be writing about Berlin.

I feel like I never left Los Angeles. But I am feeling kind of ambivalent about being here. I have been enjoying settling into Berlin and I really wanted to continue setting up my apartment, discovering new bars/restos, making new friends, and learning German.

I do love LA, a controversial sentiment I know, but I really love where I am living now. That feels great.

Good boy

Here is a picture of Diego on the S-Bahn.

(it is several days after his coif at the Hundesalon so you can see that his hair de-froed a bit).

Before and After

Several weeks ago, my friend Catrin kindly accompanied me to the Hundesalon. Diego needed some grooming. My vet in Mitte gave me the name of a groomer who I thought was nearby. It turned out that this groomer was not as close as I had thought; as the tram passed more and more Stalin-style block apartments, Catrin and I theorized about what the groomer would look like.
'Her name is Missy' Catrin said, drawing on her knowledge of a trend in East Germany to give girls names ending with double consonants and a 'y' sound: Connie, Shelly, Crissie. (Guys had names like Rico-- too cool!).

I guessed that she had true-red hair cut short with a streak of black through it. Catrin added in long laquered nails (I thought that was a stretch because how do you trim a dog with huge shiny acrylic nails.

Who was right? Both of us. She couldn't have been more perfect. The red streak, the acrylic nails. I didn't catch her name, but her dog-- I mean her doppelganger-- was called 'Sissy.'

And how did Diego turn out? He's thrilled with the results. (really, he is so much more himself. He was just too hot in all of that fur this summer. He's back to his playful cuddly self.)

And yes, I am to blame for the big head. It's just that he looks so different when he gets groomed; I think if his face was shaved he would look so different. I like to keep his face as fluffy as possible so that I still recognize him.

Vast East Berlin

This is the only major city I know that has massive open spaces, overgrown and neglected.

This is a huge block near Nordbahnhof which has been adopted by some dog owners as a makeshift dog park. Prime real estate, smack dab in the middle of Mitte. The 'park' has a chain link fence around it to keep people out; conveniently, it also keeps dogs in.

Diego stares at his favorite thing: a squeaky rubber ball with legs.

Self Portrait

In front of Checkpoint Charlie before a delicious Italian meal at Sale e Tabbachi with Romy and her German boyfriend Martin who were visiting from Los Angeles. Diego moved and we got this blurry picture.

We didn't visit the museum.

Am waiting for the summer to end and for Berlin to quiet down before I visit the big tourist sites. In the meantime, I am trying to socialize more and get things sorted out with my apartment on weekends.

Working dog

Here is a snap of Diego doing what he does best: being cute.

He loves his little modest bed from Target and he sleeps in it under my desk at work.

Sometimes I stick my feet on him to see how long he will tolerate it. It's funny because I always tire of it before he does.

Sunrise, sunset

It was a humid day in Berlin yesterday, replete with rainshowers and sticky sticky clothes and hair.

But it cooled down and cleared up by evening, and when I went out to meet some friends for dinner, the clouds to the north (I think) were bursting with pink and salmon and gray.

Nice package!

I was not home when Herr Deutsche Post delivered my Alice package so he dropped it off at the corner hardware store for me to pick up. So kind and thoughtful! And I didn't even have to go to the post office to pick it up.

Go ask Alice

4 weeks after signing up for a new telephone service and DSL, I still do not have the account set up.

Apparently this is normal in Germany.

I am going with 'Alice,' an alternative provider because I will be able to have an open contract that I can cancel at any time; Telekom requires 2 year contract. But whether you go with Telekom or any other service provider, the wait, the unbearable wait is still the same.

But isn't Alice just so pretty?

Meanwhile, I clandestinely check my personal emails at work (hey, by the way, why don't you drop me a line?), and post things here and there.

And I still can't call my friends and family. I miss you guys!

Linked in

I just added some links to other expat blogs that I've found in Germany. They are a bit simple, but then again, so is mine. I don't agree with all of their observations and comments, but it is interesting to see how they are faring in this Teutonic land.

Fahrkarten, bitte- or breaking the law

Public transportation is too easy to cheat here in Germany. There are no turnstiles like in London, Paris and NYC. It's based on the honor system.

You buy a ticket for 2,10 euros, you stamp it, you keep it with you. Simple.

But sometimes you are walking up the stairs with your computer, dog and bike, and your train arrives. And so you run as fast as you can onto the train. Oops, you forget to buy (or stamp) your ticket.

And sometimes you make it to your destination without and trouble.

And sometimes, plain clothed (!) policemen catch you. And they have no mercy. They make you pay the ticket violation right there. And if you don't have cash on you, they have been known to take you to the ATM (EC Card) to get cashola. Or they ask for your address if all else fails.

Claiming ignorance because you are a foreigner works rarely, if ever. Most of us really just didn't know how to pay for a ticket. But honestly, you do kind of know that there must be a system to pay for public transport, there always is.

I have experienced the dreaded 'farhkarten, bitte' inspectors on the S-Bahn. I really had no idea what they were doing. All of a sudden, people started flashing these cards to these guys; I just thought they were strange. They asked for my ticket in English and then I looked, and looked, and looked in my pockets and bag and everywhere, stalling just enough for us to reach the Hautbahnhof and to jump out with Diego. They were distracted by another person with a dog who also did not have a ticket, so I went downstairs to the bank, got some money (from my US account) and bought the 2,10 ticket.

That anxious interaction with the Inspectors is not worth it. Now, I try and buy a ticket each time I get on public transport.

That's my contribution to the German public transport system. It's the least I can do.

Ordnungsamt

I have never felt like someone who breaks the laws, or who fears the police. In the US, I usually felt that the police were here to 'protect and serve.' The meter maids are just pains in the asses, but I don't fear them.

But here in Berlin, I am scared.

There are fine ladies and men who rule the parking meters in Germany, and they are called Ordnungsamt. These are the people that get you if you violate order or rules on the German streets. And as you guessed it, there are a lot of rules on the German streets. And everday, I violate a couple.

I am still a newbie here, so I will cover just one area where I come in contact with the Ordnungsamt, and where I seem to constantly break the laws: in the context of my dog.

- All dog owners must pay a Hundesteuer which is an (annual?) dog tax. This can be anything from 75- 120 euros for your first dog. I have been convinced by Harald, a guy from my office who has Daly the Jack Russell Terrier, not to bother with this tax. They fine you 10 euros for not paying the tax on your dog; it makes more sense to avoid paying it and to get a fine every so often I am assured.

- Dogs in Berlin can be off leash but must be within 1 meter of owner. I'm not sure if this is a real law because the friendly Ordnungsamt can give you a ticket for having your dog off leash period, I think. Once I had Diego off leash and was walking down the street talking to my friend Richard in English. Richard turned to me and said that an Ordnungsamt had just tried to approach me to give me a ticket but when he heard me speaking English he turned the other way. I looked over to see him crossing the street.

- Dogs cannot be off- leash in a park. They give you tickets for this too. Today when I got to the park, on my bike with Diego running beside me, this guy Marvin told me that I just missed the O's who would've certainly slapped a ticket on me. I think the off leash ticket might be 20 euros.

- There is a list of dogs that are considered dangerous in Germany and therefore get special laws. A pit bull or a staffordshire terrier must wear a muzzle in public after the age of 7 months. The dog can also take a strict obedience test and be exempted from wearing the muzzle. Then does the owner have to walk around with a certificate or something?

- You must pick up your dogs shit. I do this religiously, so I feel self righteous and law-abiding.

Still, I am a rule breaker and I am not proud.

But I also want a nice life for my dog, so I will put him on a leash in the city, but I will continue to let him run wild in the park where there are no people.

Show me the money

In Germany you are paid at the end of the month, not at the beginning.

And there's no 15th of the month kindness either. Money hits your account around the 27-30th of the month. But you still pay your rent at the beginning of the month.

Just wanted you to know.

Schlactensee

On Sunday, I went back to the Schlactensee with Diego and some friends. The lake is so close to Berlin, you can take the S-Bahn there. But it feels very far from the city.

There is an dirt path around the lake which is surrounded by trees. Through the trees, you can see some of the big houses of Grunewald; but mostly if feels very quiet and isolated.

People are running, walking and biking around the lake, and swimming across it too. It's not too crowded.

I took a dip, and the water was chilly, but it was a nice warm summer day, so it was refreshing.

Peter threw the tennis ball, and Diego jumped into the lake to retrieve it. The picture here is of Peter's wife Gabriela and their kids Phillip and Maria laughing as Diego doggy paddles his way back to shore. He did this a million times.

Later we ate wursts with kraut and drank apfelschorle, an apple juice spritzer. Very German indeed, although only one of us was 100% deutsch.

The Wunderbar Chocolate Bar

I love the Wunderbar.

This is a caramel candy bar, stuffed with crispy, crunchy and soft peanut butter, and dipped into smooth chocolate. You bite into the bar, and the caramel seals itself around the peanut crispiness, so it's like a caramel/peanutbutter ravioli. The smoothness of the chocolate and caramel is contrasted with the Butterfingerlike crispiness and creamy peanutbutter.

Want one? I'll bet they sell them in UK sweet shops in the US and also in Canada.

Moving on

The movers say that my stuff left California on July 31; two months after they packed it up and promised it would be on its way to Europe.

I've been told that it will all arrive in Berlin in mid August. Yeah right. Right now my container is probably at some truck stop, and the driver is smoking a Kent on my couch after eating some greasy diner food. I'm lucky if it arrives before September.

Never believe what the moving company tells you. This industry should be better regulated. I have moved so often, and each time I can list the number of ways the company has screwed up the move: damaged items, underestimated tonnage, extra fees at receiving end, drunk moving guys... And I have friends who tell the same stories.

So how will my items travel? To the east coast and then to Hamburg? To Long Beach and then through the Panama Canal and then to Hamburg? I'm not sure.

And then how long will it sit in Customs? Will they charge me extra import tariffs?

And will my things arrive broken? scratched? mildewed? Will the Germans make me pay additional fees not covered in the US moving fees? Will they put the legs on the chairs and tables they so carefully removed and assured me would all arrive in the delivery? Will they unpack the stuff they wrapped and wrapped and take away the boxes and paper like they promised?

I miss my bed. I miss my kitchen stuff, my clothes. I want to be settled at home.

The Skinny

I just don't like skinny jeans on guys. You see a lot of German dudes wearing them here. I hate when they wear them to the office.

I remember seeing a lot of dudes in Australia wearing them too. That shocked me. They are so macho, those Aussies, and then they put on the super slim fit jean and their machismo goes straight out the window.

I just wanted to set things straight on the skinny jean.

Yuck

On Wednesday I ate dinner at the hotel-restaurant on the corner. The resto is really charming, and has a great outdoor terrace during the summer. Since I have nothing in my kitchen besides cabinets, a stove and a fridge (no utensils, no plates, no pots) I end up eating out a lot.

I've had bulletten which are really delicious Berlin specialty. They are simple fried meatballs often served with simple potatoes and a salad; they are really tasty.

But this time, I ordered Konigsberger Klopse thinking it was bulletten and was surprised to receive a boiled meatball in a creamy caper sauce with overcooked potatoes.

Needless to say, my stomach has still not recovered.

Look at the Tiger!

Happy Birthday Al!

Brad and Ange in Berlin

So apparently it's confirmed: Brad and Angelina are moving to Berlin. I read that they bought a house on a little peninsula island called Schwanenwerder near Potsdam. They want to move to Berlin because it is quiet and devoid of paparazzi...for now.

Rumor has it that they also bought a house designed by their architect friends in Berlin Mitte. Apparently it sits atop an anonymous building and is speculated to be located right around the corner from where I live. I checked on the address that someone gossiped to me and found this horrible east German building. To protect their privacy and mine, I will not publish the street name & number.

Could it be true? Brad and Ange and the brood in the neighborhood? I will invite them over for drinks. Their kids can play with Diego while we talk about learning German and the terrible food at the restaurant around the corner.

Lost in Translation

As you know, I do not speak German. But I work and live in Germany, so there are times where I need the help of a translation tool. I use Babelfish which offers translations from/to many languages.

Everyday I receive emails that are sent to everyone at work. At my old agency these 'public mailings' would contain emails where people were asking for yesterday's Wall Street Journal, trying to sell an Ikea couch, or letting everyone know that the parking cops were marking tires on the main street outside the office.

Here the 'public emails' are much the same. Here is an example of an email I received and translated using Babelfish. The translations are far from perfect and often pretty hilarious, but I usually get the gist of what they are saying. Do you?

'Holgers small sister (a refrigerator) contained today and only today all your food, which does not weggeschmissen is. Since we the other refrigerator times abtauen must. For the future it remains however thereby: No food into the beverage refrigerators. Oh and again a small note: Our refrigerator was times again super dirty and it is absolutely eklig to remove smudgy sticky Dressinglachen. Watches out please for your things better and should run out nevertheless once somewhat from you, please it makes away!!!!!!!!!!!!! It is only fair if for everyone its own dirt distant.'

huh?

Wildflowers

This weekend I found this amazing florist arranging bouquets of wildflowers along the side of the road. I was visiting a friend in the outskirts of Berlin and happened to walk the wrong way on the s- bahn. I fell in love with his aesthetic and asked him to make me a little bouquet for my friend. So pretty!

The Big Chase

Diego give Jamil the Saluki a run for his money. They ran 3 times around Mon Bijou park jumping over people and using the entire park are their track. It was hilarious. If you look closely you can see me with my blue bag. This video was shot with a camera phone.

I will try and stop posting so much about Diego. How dull!

Separated by Emusifiers

What's the point of a blog?

Seriously. I should've written this earlier. What's the point of my blog?

Peter R. put it well, it's a 'diary' or maybe in grown-up terms (meaning it's no longer pink with a little gold lock and key on a purple ribbon), it's a journal.

Yeah, that's what it is. A journal of my time and experiences in Berlin (and all of the other places I will be visiting). And since I think alot, and imagine a lot, and eat a lot wherever I am, I'll stick that in too since that's part of my time here in Berlin. I also tend to travel a lot, both for work and for pleasure, so I'll include that too. I think it is more about a TIME than a place, really. Know what I mean?

When I think about a foreigner's impression of a new country, I can't help but be a bit annoyed at the trite observations I've heard (and possibly said) before:

'They drive on the wrong side of the street there!'

'ooh I just love their cute accents. It makes them all seem so hot!'

'Did you know they EAT dogs there?!'

'Everyone has a gun in New York City'

You get the picture. I am going to try to keep the stupid, obvious stuff to a minimum, and try and write about the stuff that I didn't know and that I don't think my friends or family might know or have experienced or observed. Sure, the exchange student who spent their Junior year in Munich might think 'no duh,' please remember that the first time I came to Germany was in 2001, and that I have never studied German culture or language. So I'm a virgin. A German virgin.

Speaking of virgins, I probably won't discuss sex here. Or drugs. Maybe other people having sex and doing drugs (separately, or at the same time, or together with each other). But I won't talk about my own love life or the amazing ____ (insert drug/drink/23 year old's name here) I had last night. That's not for your consumption, dear reader.

Some people use Jesus as a guide (WWJD?) for how to conduct their lives. Here, that's irrelevant. I don't think Jesus would've moved to Berlin in his 30's. He probably would've been married to his high school sweetheart with 2 kids already. And I don't think he would tell me what he'd do in the first place. He'd probably say 'you're Jewish? You don't LOOK Jewish!' and get distracted and off the subject and then I'd never find out what he would do in my situation anyway.

I remember reading David Sedaris' Me Talk Pretty One Day and finding it kind of annoying. I loved all of his other books, but this one, about his experiences in France with his boyfriend bugged me. His observations of the French and learning French just didn't strike me as cute, or new or funny. I had lived in Paris for awhile, and had a wonderful relationship with a Parisian for several years, and fancied myself a Francophile. I had learned to speak French really well and had made French friends. I just found the book, comment dit-on? trite. So that's the filter I am going to use. If it seems too David Sedaris circa MTPOD, I will not publish it. Please keep me to this.

So that's the gist of it. That's my reason for blogging. Sometime soon I'll think of a mission statement, a goal, an RTB, a benefit, a role, and a target group for this thing.

My Dog, the ball Addict

el Diablo has taken to bringing his most beloved tennis ball into my bed with the hopes that I might throw it.

Fat chance fluffball.

Rosenstraße

My agency is in Mitte, on Rosenstrasse a street with a notable Jewish history. This is the street where over 6,000 women (not Jewish) protested the deportation of their Jewish husbands to the concentration camps of eastern Europe.

Before, Jews married to non Jews had been exempted from the death camps. But in 1943, the Gestapo conducted what it called 'The Final Roundup' and drove through the streets picking up anyone Jewish, or who even looked Jewish, and brought them to Rosenstrasse 2-4.

Over the course of the week, 6,000 woman came to Rosenstrasse to protest outside of the pre-deportation collection center, crying 'give us our husbands back!'

Avoiding a violent clash with the women, Joseph Goebbels, the Nazi Propaganda leader who was also the Nazi Party leader, ordered the release of the Jews with German spouses. Nearly 2,000 Jewish men were freed and were able to escape permanent deportation.

Apparently, Goebbels released the Jews to avoid attention and protest from the rest of the world. The Gestapo did not arrest the protesting spouses in order to avoid the risk of further unrest from the wives' German relatives.

Today Rosenstrasse 2-4 is the site of the Alexander Plaza Hotel. The original building and the magnificent Alte Synagogue on adjoining Heidereutergasse both were destroyed by bombs towards the end of the war.

The Hotel has many photos and information documenting the protest in their reception entrance. There is also a park next door, 2 information kiosks, and many photographs recognizing the heroic protest of these women.

Oddly, I was in the park, throwing a ball to Diego the other day and talking with a colleague who I believe has an amazing critical mind and head for strategy. When some German students came by and asked us (him) what the memorial was for, I could understand (his German) and see that he was struggling with the history; he gave them the wrong info saying that 'there was some sort of battle here or something.' I explained the real story in English and pointed them to the kiosks on either side of the street with the historical facts.

There is a documentary called Rosenstrasse: Resistance of the Heart which captures this important protest.

It is pretty amazing to come to work here everyday on this street.

Call me Carmen

German names are great. I am sure I pronounce them terribly, but I am a big fan. And they're not snarky, clever names like Apple, Rumer, and Pilot Inspektor. Here are a few of my favorite names of some of the people I work with, and have met around town. Feel free to add your own:

- Manuela Bosch (I love that combo of Spanish and German. How unexpected! It's like Diego Greenberg, so cute!)
- Falk (it just strikes me as different)
- Otto (it's the same forwards and back)
- Kai (that's a guy's name. and he's handsome too.)
- Maike, Heike, Leike (I just like the 'kuh' sound at the end)
- Ingo (he sounds like a fun guy, right?)

And as a side note, people in Germany seem to all have different names. Sure there are a couple of Marcuses, Susannes, and Stefans, but it is not at all like Russia where EVERYONE is named the same thing, only their nicknames might be different to distinguish them from each other:

Natasha (call her Nata for short), Elena (Lena), Ekatarina (hello Katya!), Yuri (nicknamed Yura), Vladimir (what kind of macho nickname is Vlodia?), Anastasia (Nastya anyone?), Dmitri (Mitya), Tatyana (Privet Tanja!).

I really think those are the only names in the Russian language.

Dogtown

Just as Virginia is for lovers, Berlin is for dogs.

Diego the Labradoodle has come to Berlin with me and is making his mark. Sure he pees on trees and bushes and marks things that way, but he also is warming the hearts of Germans all over the city.

Diego comes to work every day with me, much like in the US. But now, instead of sitting in the back of my 'carpool-chic' station wagon, he leads the way-- off leash-- to work.

Sometimes we walk, and sometimes I ride my bike. And Diego, a reformed leash-puller, trots down the street, stopping when I yell his name at intersections, and sitting once he reaches the street. Good boy!

He's new at this off-leash thing though, and he's had some run ins to which I will confess here:

- barked at Japanese couple canoodling in Mon Bijou park after dark. I was riding my bike, and he ran ahead of me and barked at them and scared the shit out of those two. 残念!

- on a sunny post-work walk through Mon Bijou again, he ran up to some homeless guys who were making a meal of a sausage and some booze, and promptly sat in front of them until they generously gave him a chunk...ok 2... of sausage. danke!

- going up the elevator at work, the doors opened at the 3rd floor (4th floor for you Americans out there) and he barked, I mean really barked, at the cleaning woman in her hijab. Diego, as I've learned, is afraid of people wearing hoods, and this poor woman's head scarf flicked that horrible switch. Entschuldigung!

I do hope my list does not get any longer. Of course, when he misbehaves, or looks like he is going to misbehave, I put him back on the leash and make his Sit and Down a couple of times.

ok, so bad behavior aside, as I mentioned, Berlin is a dog's paradise.

Today I will tell you about our favorite Mon Bijou park. Mon Bijou is along the Spree, and conveniently located on our route to/from work. So everday, we pass through the park. I've made a number of friends there: Dwight and Yago, Claudia and Jamil, Ian and Fritz, Mel and I can't remember his dog's name, among others. Some of the people speak English, and some I just smile at. (in the photo, Diego is playing with Sloanie, Jamil, Bonbon and Hara.)

There are a couple of question people always ask:

1) girl or boy: most people in Germany don't 'fix' their dogs, so there are often the 'balls' issues and dominance.

2) is he castrated? yes, he was neutered, and he is proud of it. related to question #1

3) how old is he? I'm not sure why they ask this. Just to make small talk I think. And it works, I chat back.

4) and the ubiquitous 'what is he?' Mostly they think he is a funny looking poodle, but then they find out he has a dumb name like 'Labradoodle' and the laughs start. He is really playful and runs super fast, so he is making quite an impression with the dog owners. I hear them saying, 'oh this is the dog I was telling you about.' And friends of people I work with always say 'so THIS is Diego.' I rarely hear 'oh so this is that great American girl you told me about.' (Perhaps they whisper it in complicated German so I don't understand.)

So the dogs aren't fixed, and so there are exciting dominance issues, girl dogs in heat, and fun stuff like that. Did I mention that having a dog off leash in a park is illegal? More later, I'm off to the dog park, I mean the park.

herzliches Willkommen!

I moved to Berlin on June 11, 2007, or should I say 11 Juni 2007. And if you think that I speak German, ha! I've got you fooled. I don't speak a lick of Deutsch-- although I truly plan to.

Right now however, the prospect of learning the language is seriously overwhelming; first I've got to get through the baby steps of moving to a new country: get my visas (check), find an apartment (check), settle into working at a German agency (kind of check), figure out where to get my groceries, get a bank account, set up a blog (check, check, check)...

But there are a myriad of things I still haven't accomplished here, and you dear reader are invited to come along with me on the journey into my new life in Berlin.

A warm welcome to you!