So I don't know if you've heard but a certain someone is heading to Berlin this fall. To those of you who know me, go ahead and commence the giant eye roll accompanied by the equally giant sigh. I can just about hear you now. "Yes, YES! For the love of God, we KNOW you are going to Germany. Enough already!" (P.S. Don't think I'm going to stop talking about it once the trip is over. Then it will just be a recap of all the uber-cool stuff I did/saw/consumed in beer batter for a good five year stretch, I'm guessing).
But just in case you haven't heard, here's the dealio:
I'm going to the homeland via one of my nanny gigs. Although I currently work for a bunch of families in the Brooklyn area, I've most consistently worked for two. Most of my time is spent taking care of two-year-old Ethan and one-year-old Jack. Jack and I have been hanging out since he was a teeny, weeny eight-week-old. Not only have I established a good relationship with the little nugget over the past year, I've gotten to be friends with his fun, hip parents, too. Over coffee with Jack's mother one frigid day last winter, as I complained about how I'M NEVER GOING TO GET BACK TO SPAIN AGAIN, she asked if i wanted to accompany them on a trip. She had received a grant to do some work in Berlin and needed someone to take care of little Jack while she did her research.
I don't think the entire question had left her mouth before I began to shriek, "Yessssss!" and performed the happy girl dance which in my case, involves a combination of hopping, shimmying, and some sort of hand jiving. The thing is, I really, really love Europe. When I did my teaching stint in Madrid six years ago, it was supposed to be for two months only. Yet every few weeks, I'd call home to tell my mom, "I think I'm staying one more month. I mean, why not?" (May I add that on top of digging the Spanish culture, I was also gallivanting from Segovia to Sevilla with a tall, dark, and handsome foreigner, drinking copious amounts of sangria and dancing til dawn? There wasn't really an urgency to return to northern Wisconsin in the dead of winter.)
Regardless, that "Why not?" was answered six months later by my nearly wiped out bank account. Plus, that little war in Iraq that had started and a whole lot of concerned people back home just wanted their girl stateside again.
But ever since then, I've been dying to get back and now I have an awesome opportunity to do so. When I was in Spain, I did the quintessential backpacking trip through Europe and spent three days in Berlin. Even though it was the dead of winter, I LOVED it! I mean, I adored Spain, too, but in a much different, non-binding way. It didn't hit my gut the way Berlin did. I remember turning a street corner near the central train station, the Hauptbahnhof, and getting hit by the smell of my grandmother's kitchen. No, my 90-year-old grandma was not stuffing links on the streets of Berlin; rather that very distinct smell wafted over to me from a sausage cart on the street. It gave me chills.
Another reason I immediately felt at home? GERMANS KNOW THEIR BAKED GOODS! (This requires caps because I'm the kind of girl who cannot get through the day without a cookie at the very least). Where else can you get a bubbling warm apple strudel, a creamy Bavarian doughnut, or a sinful layered torte in the very same spot, whether it be a bakery, restaurant, or corner store? These are most definitely my people.
In the meantime, I have done pretty much nothing to prepare for this trip except to post a "Hey, I'm looking for friends!" ad on Craigslist. So far, so good. A few cool ass chicks have responded who I will meet up with once I'm there. And very recently, I got my hands on a 5 disc series called "You VILL learn your mother tongue, ja!" with a cover of a menacing red-faced dude in lederhosen, pointing a bratwurst at me. Okay, maybe I just made that up. I can't help but poke a little fun at the Germans. It's only because I can relate to them in so many ways (mostly in that stereotypical high strung, "Get outta my way, there is work to do!" sort of way). Anyway, I can't wait to come "home" and be one with my people. And despite what some people say, they are trying to warm their hearts! (It IS cold there, people! Let's give 'em a break!)
So I just tried out disc one. Holy crap, I've got a lot to figure out in four and a half weeks. How do you say "Wish me luck!" in German? Is is synonymous with "I am heading up shit creek without a paddle"?
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