Back in America.

After a few days of decompression, I now feel ready to attempt to articulate something I learned over my two weeks in Berlin.

When you are in Europe, you can wear the hat that you can't wear in America because your friends will make fun of you. And it will make you trust yourself, because the world indeed continues to turn: life carries on as usual all around you and whatever hat you have chosen. And it will make you own your choices, not only in Europe but always and fiercely, because the world is too big, and if you are wearing the same boring hat as everyone else you may be lost.

Not that being lost is always a bad thing.

My introduction to urban exploration.

So I haven't posted since last week due to pressing demands of the search for a photo story.
I had various potential subjects that all fell through for various reasons, until finally I met this English photographer named Nathan Wright. I visited his studio, conducted a short interview, and took a few pictures. When I told him it would be best for me to take pictures of him taking pictures, he said he was going "urbex-ing" on Sunday, and that I might be able to come along... "if I had proper sneakers."
I was unfamiliar with "urbex" but intrigued by the footwear requirement.
Long story short, my adventure spirit remains irrepressible, and so on Sunday morning at 6:30am I found myself heading south out of Berlin on the Autobahn with two English photographers. I felt like I was in an episode of Top Gear. Their banter was ridiculously delightful, and the early morning light on German countryside I'd never seen before was cool, too.

We spent all day exploring abandoned buildings in a few different locations mostly around Zossen, Germany, and ended our adventure at a biergarten back in Berlin, tired and smelly, discussing the high points of the day and about a million other things over schnitzel and sauerkraut. And beer. Classic.

Wednesday

Yesterday, the group had a little sit-down with Christoph Niemann, an illustrator who works on assignments from the New Yorker and the NY Times and other similarly important publications. He graciously invited us into his studio and talked to us a little bit about recent work and his creative process. Check out his Abstract Sunday blog here. He's kind of a big deal. Still, he was accessible and very relatable, and I think that's what makes him so funny.

Next, I struck out on my own and visited a writer's drop-in evening. We sat around drinking wine and talking in a room whose walls were covered in secondhand books. A punk-rocker from Leeds read us some beat poetry she had written, and an old Norwegian man shared a short story based on his father's life as a seaman. I don't know how we all ended up in the same cluttered little bookshop in Berlin on a clear Wednesday evening but I am thankful, thankful, thankful.

People-watching.

It may be an idle pastime for some, but for us it's serious business. I am working on learning to creep more purposefully. Luckily, in Berlin there is no shortage of worthwhile people to watch.

Prof. Freeman, Lisa, and Emily waiting for the bus.

A classy taxi-hailer.

"Donk-uh?"

It's day four, and I'm beginning to feel a bit more familiar with German, but still uncomfortably inept. I don't like not knowing every nuance of every rule of grammar, pronunciation, and usage of a language, and I really don't like the big cartoon-looking B-shaped letter that actually makes an "S" sound. What is that about? Anyway, today I was able to successfully order "hähnchen mit pommes"  (chicken with fries) at the Hühnerhaus (Chicken Shack), an open-air stand on a corner by the big beautiful park in Kreuzberg. That was a milestone for me, okay? No judging.
This morning, we visited the Institute for Photographic Education to hear photojournalist Timothy Fadek speak about his experience in the field and show us some of his work. His pictures were amazing, just gorgeous and such impressive and evocative content. You can see some of his work on his website. He flies around the world to wherever the biggest conflicts are taking place, and then works as a freelance photographer for whichever magazine/publication/etc is interested, or most financially interested. I can't even imagine the crazy pace and fluctuation of that sort of lifestyle, just catching a plane to Haiti after the earthquakes and then calling TIME magazine. It's so inspiring that he can make a living doing something creative that he actually likes. Some of his pictures are taken in the middle of huge bloody conflicts, like in Cairo between the police and protestors, and when someone asked him about the danger and the death and how he deals with it, he said, "You're a person first, and a photographer second. If you're the only one who can help, you put the camera down." And I liked that a whole lot. I understand that there's no way you can personally provide clean water for millions of people, and that taking pictures to expose these sorts of issues to the world is just another way of helping, but we're humans, and having a camera doesn't exempt us from basic human responsibilities.
Another notable quote was regarding his trip to Syria: "Biggest misconception is that the Arab world hates Americans. Everything you heard from George Bush- complete lie." Residual anger towards George Bush amuses me, and I do sometimes feel like everyone else in the world hates Americans, especially in the Middle East. But maybe they don't. Being here, asking for directions from Germans who can guide us in our native language when we know barely a smidgen of theirs, is leading me to believe that maybe everyone else in the world doesn't actually hate us, maybe they just think we're dumb. I'm not sure which I would prefer.
Photos to come!

N-n-nineteen.

Today, an outgoing Berliner quoted various song lyrics, without prompting, to me and a few of my travelin' buddies. We were baffled at first but eventually we were all able to come to an agreement: Bob Dylan is indeed a poet. And so poetry saves me yet again.
It was another long day of explorations, with a walking tour taking us through the Brandenburg Gate and Museum Island, through the abstract Holocaust memorial and the site of Hitler's bunker, all the way to Checkpoint Charlie. After that we grabbed a quick bite to eat and set off for our appointment at the Reichstag building, where we all really enjoyed the quality views of Berlin despite our growing delirium. We made our way home on a public bus (the transportation system here is excellent) and after a few hours of downtime for photo editing, showers and naps, we were ready to go find some much-anticipated ice cream. I'm looking forward to an exciting and productive week.

Museum Island had the biggest dandelions I had ever seen.

"Angels of the Reichstag"

The bike tour.

From 11am to 5:30pm today, my study abroad group and I were tooling around Berlin on bikes, with varying degrees of skill and coordination. The weather was absolutely perfect. We saw a section of the Berlin Wall, crossed the river, and biked through some parks in West Berlin. I was fascinated by Tempelhof Park, converted from an old airport runway. The airport was taken over by the Americans during the war, closed down completely as an airport recently, and through a series of community protests was eventually turned over by the government to become a common space. There was a huge open area set up for people grilling: the "grillplatz," a community garden, and people biking, running, and skateboarding all around the old runway. The park is now the largest in Berlin, and it was full of people enjoying the lovely Saturday afternoon. It's still a little weird to me that when I'm having a lovely Saturday afternoon, almost every other person I know in this world is having a Saturday morning.

Buttons and wire in the garden

Another interesting detail found in the garden

 

The cute busker in Alexanderplatz

 

Sitting on top of the Berlin Wall