The first year I lived in Los Angeles, it highest annual rainfall in 121 years, falling less than 1/4 inch short of the all time record.
The year I lived in Córdoba, it had record breaking rainfall and low temperatures (granted, the record only went back to 1973). It hadn't snowed in the city in decades. When I was there, it snowed twice.
I was just in time again. This winter in Berlin had been the coldest, darkest, and longest in 130 years.
So. Awesome.
So, when "Spring" finally came around last week (and by Spring I mean by northern European standards, meaning you're still not leaving the house without several layers and an umbrella) I was thoroughly excited. In fact, I think I was more excited than my German counterparts (which I guess stands to reason given my 'Zona roots); I didn't notice anyone else wearing a skirt without tights or ankle-length pants and flats last week as I was proudly hacking. Okay, admittedly it was a little nippy. But it was marvelous. And although I pay an embarrassingly large sum for my gym membership, I've shunned it for the opportunity to finally - comfortably - run outside and enjoy the parks.
And the parks! Oh the parks. Finally, little pieces of young supple green leaves are emerging, and I never thought that something so small could excite me so much. In fact, I was so excited when I saw the first leafy greens sprout from a shrub, I actually shrieked loud enough to startle Bosse.
In Phoenix, our 4 seasons were really 3: hot, hotter, and hotter-than-hell. So what on earth did we have to be excited for except a relief in temperatures, not the rise. So finally, after nearly 30 years, I understand what spring is all about. Renewal! Rebirth! Rejuvenation! Revival! I get it! I get what all the fuss is about. I now bask in the warm emerald glow of the sunlit trees lining the streets, revel in the delicate pink blossoms that sprinkle other branches, and sigh deeply at the sight of the daffodils springing from soft grass in the park. Spring is truly wunderbar.
I can't believe I have missed out on the joy of Spring's arrival for so many years. And in a way, it almost makes the hostility of winter worth it.
Almost.
Wednesday, April 24, 2013
Tuesday, March 19, 2013
Baby's first soccer game
About a month ago, I had the opportunity to attend my first ever professional soccer game. I was to go see the Berlin Hertha (which, I was told by some native Berliner students, is the inferior of the two Berlin soccer teams, even though both teams play in the 2nd league). Fortunately their local status (or lack thereof) had no baring on my enthusiasm.
I was definitely excited to see the live version of the sport that makes the world go mad (the world except for the US of course). But I was actually most excited to see where the game was being played: Olympic Stadium here in Berlin.
Olympic Stadium was made infamous from its appearance in the 1936 games inaugurated by Adolf himself and further immortalized in the film Olympia. What's even cooler, is that it's one of the few structures that survived the war - not just minimally damaged but barely touched. Only the bell tower of the stadium was brought down, but the bell survived with a giant crack, rendering it silent (interesting in its parallels to our Liberty Bell, in a very different war).
Finding something in Berlin that pre-dates the war is always a special experience, and this was bound to be one of the highlights of the evening.
We arrived at the stadium right after the opening celebration. Our seats were at one of the end zones, unfortunately (or fortunately), we were seated in the end zone close to where the visiting team's fans were gathered. But even as we were across the stadium from the Hertha fans, their presence couldn't have gone unnoticed. They stomped, hollered, and rallied in unison. Their passion electrified the stadium.
But really, I think most of their energy came out of the need to stay warm. As it was February and still winter (which, as it turns out is no different than March in Berlin either), I tried to wear a few extra warm layers. And despite my efforts, my feet were starting to tingle of chill 30 minutes into the game. It was nearly enough for me to jump up and into the fan bandwagon. I resisted though, and did what I could to keep myself warm through other means.
At halftime, Bosse and I shared a brat (of which I'd trade in any ballpark frank) and a short 45 minutes later (no sarcasm intended), the game was all over and Hertha had won.
However, one of the most amusing moments of the evening was as we were leaving. Outside of the stadium, men began lining up along the wall of the olympic pool outside the stadium and relieving themselves of all the beer they drank during the game right into the empty basin.
Overall, I really enjoyed the game, and I think it was good preparation for a possibly wilder 1st division game if I ever get to one. Though hopefully next time, it will be a bit warmer.
I was definitely excited to see the live version of the sport that makes the world go mad (the world except for the US of course). But I was actually most excited to see where the game was being played: Olympic Stadium here in Berlin.
Olympic Stadium was made infamous from its appearance in the 1936 games inaugurated by Adolf himself and further immortalized in the film Olympia. What's even cooler, is that it's one of the few structures that survived the war - not just minimally damaged but barely touched. Only the bell tower of the stadium was brought down, but the bell survived with a giant crack, rendering it silent (interesting in its parallels to our Liberty Bell, in a very different war). Finding something in Berlin that pre-dates the war is always a special experience, and this was bound to be one of the highlights of the evening.
We arrived at the stadium right after the opening celebration. Our seats were at one of the end zones, unfortunately (or fortunately), we were seated in the end zone close to where the visiting team's fans were gathered. But even as we were across the stadium from the Hertha fans, their presence couldn't have gone unnoticed. They stomped, hollered, and rallied in unison. Their passion electrified the stadium.
But really, I think most of their energy came out of the need to stay warm. As it was February and still winter (which, as it turns out is no different than March in Berlin either), I tried to wear a few extra warm layers. And despite my efforts, my feet were starting to tingle of chill 30 minutes into the game. It was nearly enough for me to jump up and into the fan bandwagon. I resisted though, and did what I could to keep myself warm through other means. At halftime, Bosse and I shared a brat (of which I'd trade in any ballpark frank) and a short 45 minutes later (no sarcasm intended), the game was all over and Hertha had won.
However, one of the most amusing moments of the evening was as we were leaving. Outside of the stadium, men began lining up along the wall of the olympic pool outside the stadium and relieving themselves of all the beer they drank during the game right into the empty basin.
Overall, I really enjoyed the game, and I think it was good preparation for a possibly wilder 1st division game if I ever get to one. Though hopefully next time, it will be a bit warmer.
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| Panoramic of the stadium interior |
Monday, February 18, 2013
The day the Mosques were open
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| The Sehitlik Mosque in Belrin |
There were certainly a lot of people there who I assume were just as curious as we were. For me, it was encouraging to see so many non-Muslims attending the open house. (Sadly, I don't think there would be the same reception if it had been held in Phoenix or other parts of the US.)
Admittedly, I don't remember the entirety of my experience that day, but I do remember the overwhelming sense of openness and community, the eagerness to share and probably to also dispel misunderstanding.
I also remember us taking off our shoes and leaving them in the small foyer, meant for doing just so. But with the numbers, there was hardly space for the multitude of pairs that were then scattered on the floor. After this, we went into the main room, which was also the most beautiful. Immediately, I noticed the ceiling which was tall and domed and intricately painted. It was so bright from the clear windows that wrapped around the center. Hanging down was an elaborate chandelier, nothing similar to one I'd ever seen before. The carpet was bright blue and sold under my bare feet. We stood for a few moments, admiring the artistry, and watched the men pray. After, we then went to the room underneath which was meant for women and children, which was dark and nondescript, although it was here that it felt most like a community center of sorts. As we left the building, I gawked at the copious amounts of delicious food and desserts that were being made and sold from the tents set up all around the property for the event.
Sunday, February 10, 2013
The frustrations of being a freelancer
It's difficult (to say the least) to get legal work in Europe (re: Getting a visa). There are a few things going against my favor, two of which are: (1) I don't speak German and (2) I don't have a passport from an EU country.
This leaves me few options. But, because I am a native English speaker, and have a college education, this deems me to be a wonderful English teacher (Duh! Because all B.A.s include courses on English phonemes!)
(P.S. I'm actually quite grateful they don't question this logic more thoroughly.)
But even given my vast abilities to teach my mother-tongue, English-teaching jobs are hard to get despite their ubiquity in Berlin ....And they're low paid ....And you can forget about a contract. I work as a "freelancer"
What does this mean? It means that one learns the essence of the phrase "don't count your eggs before they hatch" rather quickly.
Partially, it's where I work. At my school, classes can be cancelled up to 2pm the day before without the student(s) having to pay. This means I can look at my weekly schedule, start with 20+ units for the weeks, and potentially have nothing at the end of the week. Nothing's for sure. Fortunately, this has never happened, and is (highly) unlikely to. But I've certainly had weeks where I've had 8+ units disappear, also meaning that I don't get paid for those units. The coup de grâce is, we also get paid more per unit once we've reached a certain number of units for the month - which leaves a race to the finish line and a battle for units between you, the other teachers, and the secretaries that make the schedule.
I've also recently had a regular class that was assigned to another teacher (without my prior knowledge) simply because the students liked him better (I guess it's the risk you take when you have a sub for your class). I don't take it personally - customers (i.e. students) will always have their idiosyncrasies - but now I've lost the class and the hours on my payroll. Ouch. That stings.
I'm super grateful that I have a job. Especially given the economic climate around the world, I've been able to get a job and a work permit in a country that's not my own. And being a freelancer occasionally has its benefits. Just as easily as they can cancel my hours, I can cancel my classes (or rather, my appearance at my classes). Vacation time isn't paid, but essentially it's unlimited (given one can afford it). And I can set my own schedule too. No, I don't want to take that class on a Friday night at 8 (although I probably will anyway so I can get the hours).
And I (usually) love, love, the people I work with - the students, the teachers, the secretaries - that still make it interesting and exciting on a daily basis. I've had the chance to teach and converse with men and women from all over Europe, in all kinds of trades. And I know that at the end of the lesson, I've usually learned more from them they they have from me.
This last week has left me frustrated with my job here and its fickle nature. I'm left craving something a bit more stable, secure; maybe a better basket, or more reliable eggs. And, as I remind myself of why I do like it, I also know I'm not ready to give up on the flock quite yet.
This leaves me few options. But, because I am a native English speaker, and have a college education, this deems me to be a wonderful English teacher (Duh! Because all B.A.s include courses on English phonemes!)
(P.S. I'm actually quite grateful they don't question this logic more thoroughly.)
But even given my vast abilities to teach my mother-tongue, English-teaching jobs are hard to get despite their ubiquity in Berlin ....And they're low paid ....And you can forget about a contract. I work as a "freelancer"
What does this mean? It means that one learns the essence of the phrase "don't count your eggs before they hatch" rather quickly.
Partially, it's where I work. At my school, classes can be cancelled up to 2pm the day before without the student(s) having to pay. This means I can look at my weekly schedule, start with 20+ units for the weeks, and potentially have nothing at the end of the week. Nothing's for sure. Fortunately, this has never happened, and is (highly) unlikely to. But I've certainly had weeks where I've had 8+ units disappear, also meaning that I don't get paid for those units. The coup de grâce is, we also get paid more per unit once we've reached a certain number of units for the month - which leaves a race to the finish line and a battle for units between you, the other teachers, and the secretaries that make the schedule.
I've also recently had a regular class that was assigned to another teacher (without my prior knowledge) simply because the students liked him better (I guess it's the risk you take when you have a sub for your class). I don't take it personally - customers (i.e. students) will always have their idiosyncrasies - but now I've lost the class and the hours on my payroll. Ouch. That stings.
I'm super grateful that I have a job. Especially given the economic climate around the world, I've been able to get a job and a work permit in a country that's not my own. And being a freelancer occasionally has its benefits. Just as easily as they can cancel my hours, I can cancel my classes (or rather, my appearance at my classes). Vacation time isn't paid, but essentially it's unlimited (given one can afford it). And I can set my own schedule too. No, I don't want to take that class on a Friday night at 8 (although I probably will anyway so I can get the hours).
And I (usually) love, love, the people I work with - the students, the teachers, the secretaries - that still make it interesting and exciting on a daily basis. I've had the chance to teach and converse with men and women from all over Europe, in all kinds of trades. And I know that at the end of the lesson, I've usually learned more from them they they have from me.
This last week has left me frustrated with my job here and its fickle nature. I'm left craving something a bit more stable, secure; maybe a better basket, or more reliable eggs. And, as I remind myself of why I do like it, I also know I'm not ready to give up on the flock quite yet.
Sunday, February 3, 2013
The 30s never felt so good.
I absolutely never, ever, in-a-million-years, thought I would be the type of person to get excited about the 30s.
30° Fahrenheit that is.
Granted, I'd be way more excited about the 40s and 50s and beyond. But I'm starting small.
Being from Arizona, I was completely terrified of what the Berlin winter months would have in store for me. And I felt the least bit prepared - my most "serious" coat being a short packable down jacket with a hood that barely functioned from JCPenny's. And then the only other clothes in my winter arsenal were hiking socks and long underwear that harkened from my days at camp (more years ago than I care to count).
However, over the years, I grew an affinity for cold-weather clothes (despite not really ever needing them). I had some other wool-blend coats and drawers full of knit hats and pashmina scarves. If I had needed to (my backup plan), I could have wrapped myself head-to-toe in several layers of patterned acrylic and viscose and cocoon myself for the season.
So I wasn't logistically prepared. But I believe I came mentally prepared. Because, as I said, I had already thoroughly freaked myself out for how bone-chillingly cold I knew I was going to be.
But in all reality, it hasn't been that bad.
(knock on wood)
Sure, we've had a cold chills that have moved through. But, as cold as those chills are, the best part about them is that it makes the normal winter temperatures feel normal and mild. And then when a "warm" front comes 'round, it's only right to get out and carpe diem the crap out of it. (I never thought 45° would feel warm. Ever. It's against my Phoenician blood to feel warm below 68°.)
Over all, I've loved the beauty that winter brings - especially snow. And even leafless trees have their own beauty in their dark, spindly silhouettes.
But even with it's beauty, I'm eager to welcome Spring (and even more eager to welcome Summer). In the last week or two, I've more frequently longed for warmer days and sunshine. This week, sunset will finally make it past the 5:00pm mark and by the end of this month, the sun will rise before 7:00. Today I looked at the 10-day forecast and I was so thrilled that none of the "daily highs" dip below 30°F. These are the seasonal baby-steps I now celebrate living in Berlin.
And I'm sure, as I write this, a record-breaking winter storm will role in of which I'll have to take it all back and wrap myself in my pashmina cocoon until the appearance of the first buds of Spring.
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| The Spree after the first snowfall |
Granted, I'd be way more excited about the 40s and 50s and beyond. But I'm starting small.
Being from Arizona, I was completely terrified of what the Berlin winter months would have in store for me. And I felt the least bit prepared - my most "serious" coat being a short packable down jacket with a hood that barely functioned from JCPenny's. And then the only other clothes in my winter arsenal were hiking socks and long underwear that harkened from my days at camp (more years ago than I care to count).
However, over the years, I grew an affinity for cold-weather clothes (despite not really ever needing them). I had some other wool-blend coats and drawers full of knit hats and pashmina scarves. If I had needed to (my backup plan), I could have wrapped myself head-to-toe in several layers of patterned acrylic and viscose and cocoon myself for the season.
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| Having a little fun. |
But in all reality, it hasn't been that bad.
(knock on wood)
Sure, we've had a cold chills that have moved through. But, as cold as those chills are, the best part about them is that it makes the normal winter temperatures feel normal and mild. And then when a "warm" front comes 'round, it's only right to get out and carpe diem the crap out of it. (I never thought 45° would feel warm. Ever. It's against my Phoenician blood to feel warm below 68°.)
Over all, I've loved the beauty that winter brings - especially snow. And even leafless trees have their own beauty in their dark, spindly silhouettes.
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| The Spree defrosting |
And I'm sure, as I write this, a record-breaking winter storm will role in of which I'll have to take it all back and wrap myself in my pashmina cocoon until the appearance of the first buds of Spring.
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| Kreuzberg park filled with the joy of children playing in snow |
Sunday, January 27, 2013
A brief recap, to get the ball rolling
I know. I've been really, really, delinquent about writing.
I can't exactly say I've been rip-roaring busy since I wrote my last post after the presidential election. But I did start off that way, and then I guess I just forgot. Shame on me.
November was busy - really busy. And I must say, I was pretty overwhelmed from the start. Before the month even started, I was looking forward to those 30 days being over. And of course, they were soon enough. Along with over 140 units of class, was also a visit from Dad, Bosse's birthday, Madam Butterfly, and Thanksgiving. It was a great month, and by the end, I felt a bit like I had finished a marathon - accomplished and exhausted.
Then came December, which is always a good time, especially here in Berlin where one can take part in any of the 50+ Christmas markets that happen throughout the month. I managed to make it to at least 8 different ones, and many of those on more than one occasion (and getting a glass of Gluwein each time, of course). Fortunately, this year I was able to resist most of the sweets that tempted me the year before - leaving plenty of room and calories spared for the two different Christmas feasts we had at Bosse's parents house, one at the beginning of December, and again during the days of Christmas. Yes, here there is not just one, but THREE days of Christmas. (24, 25, 26) and one doesn't even consider getting out of pjs for the entire 3 days.
Well, we did once, and that was to play some squash, which (for my first time) I was AWESOME at, until I fell on my ankle. Being the tough gal I am, I continued to play. And then I couldn't walk for the next 2 days, which meant our plans of taking a day trip to Brussels were.... squashed (get it?).
After spending a quiet week at his home, we came back to Berlin for a much louder new years celebration. And loud it was. In Berlin (and the rest of Germany), people are permitted to shoot fireworks for 2 days out of the year - December 31 and January 1. So, in the few days leading up to New Years Eve, everyone goes nuts buying them, and then on the days, everyone goes nuts setting them off. And these aren't just your puny little sparklers you bring back when you cross the border into Mexico. These are full rockets and even shows. Here, one can buy a huge "battery" of fireworks that, once lit, will give you about 5 minutes of a semi-professional show.
So, come December 31, a city like Berlin turns into a virtual war zone of explosions and sparks, and at midnight, ones first (and most sane) reaction would be to tuck for cover. Fortunately, because of the mild weather and a general excitement of the season, we went out to enjoy in the festivities and watched as the city glowed of different colors and shook with the booms of rockets. There's something unique and thrilling when you feel like your not just a spectator in all the splendor, but part of it.
Sadly, I was back at work the next day. But since, January has been an especially slow month, especially after the rush of the year's end. The relaxed pace did allow me to take a brief trip back to Arizona last week, and I was so happy to see my family, friends, and old coworkers.
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| Dad's visit gave me a great excuse to go to my first museum in Berlin - the Pergamon. |
I can't exactly say I've been rip-roaring busy since I wrote my last post after the presidential election. But I did start off that way, and then I guess I just forgot. Shame on me.
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| Tried my hand at a black forest cake for Bosse's birthday. |
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| Thanksgiving for 2 - every bit as delicious with even more leftovers |
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| Charlottenberg Market |
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| Essen Market |
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| Potsdamer Platz Market |
Well, we did once, and that was to play some squash, which (for my first time) I was AWESOME at, until I fell on my ankle. Being the tough gal I am, I continued to play. And then I couldn't walk for the next 2 days, which meant our plans of taking a day trip to Brussels were.... squashed (get it?).
After spending a quiet week at his home, we came back to Berlin for a much louder new years celebration. And loud it was. In Berlin (and the rest of Germany), people are permitted to shoot fireworks for 2 days out of the year - December 31 and January 1. So, in the few days leading up to New Years Eve, everyone goes nuts buying them, and then on the days, everyone goes nuts setting them off. And these aren't just your puny little sparklers you bring back when you cross the border into Mexico. These are full rockets and even shows. Here, one can buy a huge "battery" of fireworks that, once lit, will give you about 5 minutes of a semi-professional show.
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| Getting a little goofy after too much Christmas shopping |
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| Bosse making Thanksgiving #2 for Christmas dinner |
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| Christmas Tree with REAL candles! |
Sadly, I was back at work the next day. But since, January has been an especially slow month, especially after the rush of the year's end. The relaxed pace did allow me to take a brief trip back to Arizona last week, and I was so happy to see my family, friends, and old coworkers.
It was a wonderful holiday, but the year ahead is looking full and fulfilling. In a way, it's hard to believe that the first month is almost finished, because I really want to savor the next eleven.
The New Year's firework show:
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| Brandenburg Gate at Christmas time |
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