Well, I think I finally feel like I'm living somewhere, with new friends coming out of the woodwork and going with them to "hang out" at new places, rather than "be a tourist" at new places.
I feel like we're temporary housemates with Florian and Kristine, rather than "guests." This is a huge departure from before, and exactly what I was looking for. We chat with them after work over a beer; tonight we're cooking more Chicken Paprikas together, hosting a whopping 7 other people. I've been appointed "chefkoch," or just "chef."
Last weekend we also went out to an awesome beer festival: a line along Karl-Marx-Allee that stretches for a whopping 4 subway stops, hosting probably every beer worth its salt in Germany, as well as many from Belgium, England, and then other countries. A bit expensive (compared to most German beer), but pretty awesome nonetheless. Also included great foods such as pretzels, roasted/sweetened nuts, mini donuts and mini crepes, bratwurst, cured sausages, currywurst, and a yummy meat-and-cheese-cooked-into-bread concoction (we ate this over 2 nights, because we decided to go twice).
Neat and foreboding clouds over Karl-Marx-Allee.
More Beer Festival.
We linked up with Florian and Kristine once more, this time with some 8 other friends that were touring around the different stalls (these two are pretty popular!). We hung out with them from 9 'till midnight, talking at large part about what we loved and hated about our individual countries, to much laughter and some debate (the Germans, like other continentals, are both quite blunt and quite insistent that there is really no way the United States has any good beer). It was all, of course, in very good fun.
The brave (led by Florian and Stephan) decided to move on after all the beer stalls closed--tragically--at 12pm. It was Saturday night and apparently for most of the hardcore this means that they had just finished pre-gaming. For myself, I was getting small servings of each beer to try more, but was feeling quite sober. So I joined the brave.
We went down to Kreuzberg, which is allegedly the grittiest, dirtiest, most punk, metal, left-wing, tattoo-and-piercings-laden, ethnically diverse, etc etc etc part of Berlin (and also VERY SAFE, MOM). It's in West Berlin but was surrounded by the Wall on 3 sides, making it very undesirable and thus quite cheap. It was quite run-down for some time and began to be inhabited only by poorer immigrants. Because West Berlin was the only part of West Germany where there was no conscription, those who wanted no part of it would often find Kreuzberg a cheap place to quickly jump to. This, of course, meant that there was a disproportionately high number of left-wingers and other anti-institutional thinkers. Thus the metal, the punk, etc. (Note I'm NOT saying that anti-draft people are all that way. I have a strong opposition to any draft, myself.)
Anyway: our first stop was "Trinkteufel," or "Drink-Devil." As you can see from the outside (the inside did not disappoint), it was the single most Metal place I have ever, ever been. It was swelteringly hot, full of smoke, and served cheap beer from a few Metal bartenders to their Metal patrons. We stuck out like sore thumbs but unlike the horrible anti-fantasies playing through my mind, nobody got up and decided to make a thing of it. (There is a biker bar near our house and we are just plain not going to go in there at any point, despite this experience.)
We ended up staying out in the bars until after 3am, and finally decided to turn in. On our way back, we had really great shwarma (recommended by Florian and Stephan). My favorite moment of the night, though, was this: Florian went to a 24/7 outdoor produce stall (I know, I don't get it either) and bought some 5 avocados and a few other things for 2 Euro. At our marvel, Stephan turns to us and, for the 4th time of the night, declares with the flair of a showman: "Welcome to Kreuzberg!" Not as funny written down, but maybe I'm just writing it here so 60-year-old Erik will remember and get a giggle.
It was a maddeningly long subway + walk back, and we got to bed at 0430. The below is a picture of the middle of Berlin from the north--this walk-bridge crosses train tracks and then you have a pretty straight shot to downtown where the wall used to be, so it's still sufficiently under-built that you can see quite a bit.
I feel like we're temporary housemates with Florian and Kristine, rather than "guests." This is a huge departure from before, and exactly what I was looking for. We chat with them after work over a beer; tonight we're cooking more Chicken Paprikas together, hosting a whopping 7 other people. I've been appointed "chefkoch," or just "chef."
Last weekend we also went out to an awesome beer festival: a line along Karl-Marx-Allee that stretches for a whopping 4 subway stops, hosting probably every beer worth its salt in Germany, as well as many from Belgium, England, and then other countries. A bit expensive (compared to most German beer), but pretty awesome nonetheless. Also included great foods such as pretzels, roasted/sweetened nuts, mini donuts and mini crepes, bratwurst, cured sausages, currywurst, and a yummy meat-and-cheese-cooked-into-bread concoction (we ate this over 2 nights, because we decided to go twice).
Neat and foreboding clouds over Karl-Marx-Allee.
More Beer Festival.
We linked up with Florian and Kristine once more, this time with some 8 other friends that were touring around the different stalls (these two are pretty popular!). We hung out with them from 9 'till midnight, talking at large part about what we loved and hated about our individual countries, to much laughter and some debate (the Germans, like other continentals, are both quite blunt and quite insistent that there is really no way the United States has any good beer). It was all, of course, in very good fun.
The brave (led by Florian and Stephan) decided to move on after all the beer stalls closed--tragically--at 12pm. It was Saturday night and apparently for most of the hardcore this means that they had just finished pre-gaming. For myself, I was getting small servings of each beer to try more, but was feeling quite sober. So I joined the brave.
We went down to Kreuzberg, which is allegedly the grittiest, dirtiest, most punk, metal, left-wing, tattoo-and-piercings-laden, ethnically diverse, etc etc etc part of Berlin (and also VERY SAFE, MOM). It's in West Berlin but was surrounded by the Wall on 3 sides, making it very undesirable and thus quite cheap. It was quite run-down for some time and began to be inhabited only by poorer immigrants. Because West Berlin was the only part of West Germany where there was no conscription, those who wanted no part of it would often find Kreuzberg a cheap place to quickly jump to. This, of course, meant that there was a disproportionately high number of left-wingers and other anti-institutional thinkers. Thus the metal, the punk, etc. (Note I'm NOT saying that anti-draft people are all that way. I have a strong opposition to any draft, myself.)
Anyway: our first stop was "Trinkteufel," or "Drink-Devil." As you can see from the outside (the inside did not disappoint), it was the single most Metal place I have ever, ever been. It was swelteringly hot, full of smoke, and served cheap beer from a few Metal bartenders to their Metal patrons. We stuck out like sore thumbs but unlike the horrible anti-fantasies playing through my mind, nobody got up and decided to make a thing of it. (There is a biker bar near our house and we are just plain not going to go in there at any point, despite this experience.)
We ended up staying out in the bars until after 3am, and finally decided to turn in. On our way back, we had really great shwarma (recommended by Florian and Stephan). My favorite moment of the night, though, was this: Florian went to a 24/7 outdoor produce stall (I know, I don't get it either) and bought some 5 avocados and a few other things for 2 Euro. At our marvel, Stephan turns to us and, for the 4th time of the night, declares with the flair of a showman: "Welcome to Kreuzberg!" Not as funny written down, but maybe I'm just writing it here so 60-year-old Erik will remember and get a giggle.
It was a maddeningly long subway + walk back, and we got to bed at 0430. The below is a picture of the middle of Berlin from the north--this walk-bridge crosses train tracks and then you have a pretty straight shot to downtown where the wall used to be, so it's still sufficiently under-built that you can see quite a bit.
On an unrelated note entirely: I went to the German National History museum and, of course, focused mostly on Nazis and Soviets. This was my favorite part: a single brave soul, crossing his arms in defiance during a parade, instead of doing the Furher salute. Who knows what happened to him, but other people that acted like this got visits from the SS. Just a sign that no matter how mad things get, someone's got to stand up for what's right.
2 comments:
The man in the photo is August Landmesser. He was drafted into a penal battalion and is presumed to have died in '44.
That is depressing to hear. Good thing the United States doesn't have the ability to detain you indefinitely for no reas--oh shit, yes we do.
(Also: of course you would know this.)
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