der Lange Nacht

Der Lange Nacht der Museen, a night in which over 100 museums are open with constant bus access until 2 am at a cost of 15 euro.  For the past few weeks I would stare blankly at the advertisements for this event and tried my best to lodge the date in my mind.

'august 27th, saturday, august 27th, saturday, Potzdamer Kulturforum......go. go. GO!' 

BABY CHIMP ousfboasdcigiKWBDJlis

This past weekend I was in charge of the boys as their parents went to a Wagner festival in Bayreuth.  This involved taking the boys to the swimming pool Friday, cooking them dinner, and keeping them busy until bed.  This went smoothy as I was able to get a few laps in at the pool and a few chapters of my Michelangelo biography read, and there is nothing better to keep a child busy than a healthy dose of cartoon network.  While they stared slack-jawed at the episode of Ben-10 as I sang in the kitchen whilst I prepared ravioli from scratch as my lunch for the next day.

Saturday came with drastically different weather than the high 80s of Friday, but the boys and I were undeterred in our efforts to view the animals of the Berlin Zoologisches Garten.  This zoo is AWESOME.  needless to say when I walked through the Affenhaus (ape-house) I went ape-shit (tee hee).

"Flußpferd" in German =River horse, or Hippo

The zoo showcased a wider variety of animals than I have seen in a single park before.  All within grand enclosures in a beautifully manicured garden sporting wide boulevards and decorative fountains that seemed to extend from the adjacent Tiergarten (translated as beast garden, Berlin's equivalent to central park).

I think I may have been more excited about the animals than the boys were....HIPPO!

Performance art at Kulturforum

Once home the boys rolled around on the couch bored.  I countered with the offer of Nerf-kämpfen (nerf gun fight).  We hustled upstairs and loaded up.  I sometimes think I take this stuff too seriously, cutting corners and clearing rooms along military procedure.  The boys and I have fun popping darts at each other until Christian comes home allowing me to go out into the Lange Nacht.

Hasselhoff at Checkpoint Charlie

I plugged in my headphones and listened to soothing music as I perused museum after museum.  The Bauhaus Archiv, The Humboldt Box, the DDR Museum, Berliner Dom, Checkpoint Charlie.  It was a great tour of many amazing museums, unfortunately I was unable to locate the Berlin Currywurst Museum....

After my cultural enrichment I decided the night was not over and that I required some social enrichment.  I picked up a half liter of bier and began to walk along Oranienburger Straße.  This street is lined with bustling bars and popular restaurants of every variety. 

I took out my headphones in order to better ingest the sights and sounds of this part of town.  I walk past troops of males marking their territory and flocks of females clamoring, parading their colors.  As a lone 3rd party I have a unique view on the happenings around me.

Along this street are also stationed a fair amount of prostitutes.  How do I know they are prostitutes you ask? Well I am not entirely sure, but I believe somewhere there is a Whores-R'-Us, and in this fine establishment they solicit the makings for a woman of the night.  And if this place does exist, then all of these women that I passed had most definitely frequented this provider of fish-net stockings.

And as a lone man walking down the street I become like light to flies, I am the light and the swarming flies are the prostitutes.  I wave off the attention of these plastic-leather bound ladies, for I do not desire their services or company, but as I pass more of them I begin to contemplate their story.  I wish to simply engage them and seek insight into their lives (I don't actually do this of course), but I still wonder....

The train ride home is long and as drown the rush of the tracks out with a random shuffle on my ipod I examine the ever-changing landscape of passengers.   With each rider that enters and exits the rail car I try to imagine their individual story.

New faces, new stories.

The middle-aged couple in coordinating raincoats, the leather strapped and tattooed youths slumped in their seats, the scruffy PHd student opposite me and his rucksack bursting with papers.  Where are they all going at 2:30 am on a Sunday morning?  And do they question my station on this train as well? Or am I simply experiencing the drunk ramblings of my inner-dialogue?

Oh, the joys of private philosophizing on the early morning train...

End of Week Two

My language school

Having just finished my 2nd week of language courses and real work I have begun to settle in nicely.  My first week here was rather eventful with many friends from back home passing through Berlin and wishing to imbibe copious amounts of German Bier with me.  When it came to these forays into the city I was reluctant but willing as I needed to wake early every morning but wished to see those familiar faces.

New Favorite Bier! Dunkel Weißbier

I first met Pat and Kevin, two fraternity brothers, at their hostel on Oranienburger Straße.  I led them along the East Wall Gallery then into the neighborhood around Warschauer Straße.  We stumbled upon an interesting plaza nestled in the remains of a bombed out train depot.  tables and benches peered out from the shade of thin trees onto a rock-climbing club 'Der Kegel'.  Those lanky men that move like spiders up the old walls of the crumbling structure are able to look down upon Europe's largest indoor skateboard park and the weave of graffiti that coats its surface.  I would later take Hannah to this same spot, a new favorite of mine, as well as share a new favorite beer, Dunkel Weissbier (dark white beer).

Graffiti at the train depot

The next night I join the boys and two other fraternity brothers of mine (Chris and Jeff) in order to explore the streets around Hackeschermarkt.  Many beers and more footsteps bring us to a bar in front of Tacheles, an artist coop housed within a structure that seems ready to collapse upon the taxis below.  I had anticipated a rough morning going into this night, but I did not anticipate arriving home just in time to prepare breakfast and coffee for the family at 6 am....I had fallen asleep on the train home and was awoken by a passenger at the line's end-station.  The only sleep I gained that night was about an hour and a half upon the train...splendid.

Future Climber watching man tackle der Kegel

Later that same week I was met by Grace and Jordan with whom I walked around Kreuzburg with beer in hand marveling at the beautiful Altbau (old building) buildings and sharing individual experiences from our times abroad.  Nothing spectacular was accomplished this night, other than some intense foosball matches,  yet I still managed to miss the last U-bahn train and get lost in the network of bus routes.  After several hours of stumbling on and off buses, I was dropped in front of a bus that read destination 'Zehlendorf'.  Thats my bus.  As if some higher power had lost interest in watching me ride aimlessly around the city and threw me a gimme.

At the end of the week I picked up Hannah from Schönefeld Airport in Susan (my Kia).  The weather was gorgeous and sunlight melted upon the green trees and open fields along the winding country road to the airport making for an enjoyable ride.  Few words are exchanged by Hannah and I whenever we meet after long stretches of time, the human urge to overpower silence with verbose hollow conversation gives way to the opportunity for a more subtle and intimate communication.

Hannah enjoying Raddler (beer and lemonade) @ der Kegel

Once home I gave Hannah the house tour and introduced her to the family in person after multiple cameos on skype conversations.  I later tricked her into eating a risotto with Pfefferling mushrooms (she hates, no, LOATHES mushrooms).  She enjoyed it. After dinner we went into the city to meet Jordan and Grace.  After a long night of wandering between failed objectives we parted ways and wished the girls safe travels as they were to leave early in the morning for Ireland.  

Tango on the Spree

The next day Hannah and I went into the city for a long day of sightseeing and meandering.  The day was long and hot and after much hysterical laughing brought on by exhaustion Hannah and I rested upon a grass hill along the Spree river.  This spot was situated in the shadow of the Boden Museum and overlooking an outdoor dance floor where couples slowing twirled with the yawning of lazy Tango music.  Onlookers sat adjacent and enjoyed bier, wine, and fresh pizza from a nearby Italian pizza oven.  Here also stood a small wooden theater from which howls of the actors and laughter of the audience spilled over into the Spree.

We are....well we're special....

As Hannah and I enjoyed the sunset in the span of pedestrian bridge she admitted that Berlin had captured her affection as it had mine, not through the grandiose monuments of cities like Paris or Rome, but through the sublime energy that emanates from unpolished and humble streets that make the largest city in Germany seem the easiest to settle into.  

Sloth overcame Hannah and myself the rest of the weekend as I my body pleaded for respite after firing on all cylinders that week.  My first week of actual work was filled with equal amount of fun, I promised Anja and Christian that if I were to play hard I would work hard.  Christian laughed and shared a similar German version of the phrase.  Looks like I will be working quite hard this coming year....

The Wall

[Disclaimer] This blog entry is really old....


Yesterday was my father's birthday, and coincidentally yesterday was the date that the Berlin wall was constructed.  I find this funny because my birthday, nov. 9th, is the day that the wall was broken.  In the interest of history I ventured into the city in order to walk the East Side Gallery, a large span of the wall left intact and used as a canvas for international artists and their messages of peace.

I began by taking the S-Bahn to Warschauerstraße [if i haven't clarified this symbol ß is read as two s's, so ß = ss just fyi].

As the train sped over the cityscape buildings and plazas began to look familiar and evoke my trip here one year ago.  A smile grew upon my face as I stepped off the train and up a flight of stairs to reveal an impressive view of the river and the TV tower looming in the distance. 

It is hard to believe that only a few decades ago this thriving metropolis (one of the largest in Europe) was divided through the middle by two 5 meter tall steel-reinforced concrete walls with automated turrets scanning for the next person brave enough to ford the no-man's land between them.  

Brandenburg Tor today

As I walk along what used to be the physical embodiment of hate, and division I am glad to see it littered with people of all ages, nationalities, sexes, and sexual orientations enjoying the art, the river, and the sun. 

Today I met with two fraternity brothers of mine at their hostel and gave them a mini-tour of some key locations.  I opted to seek out the gritty Berlin over the gentrified tourist areas of the city.

Brandenburg Tor with the wall

Tomorrow morning the boys begin school and I begin language courses.  Now I am relegated to a 630 wake up every week day in order to herd the boys out the door.  wooooo

The Opera and Mondsee

Salzkammergut (the area around Salzburg) becomes shrouded in a dull gray haze as I board my train for München.  Today shall be the first time I have seen my girlfriend Hannah in person since the first week of July.  She has just arrived in München as an Au Pair for a young family in the Englishgarten district.  This short trip to München is a welcome respite from my stay in Plainfeld. 

Recently the families have been attending operas and theater performances regularly, leaving myself and the Wallisch family’s helper Ivana in charge of the 4 kids.  Last night I had to play the bad-guy and constantly snatch electronics away from the kids in keeping with their parents’ wishes.  They think they are quite sly but they are in actuality very poor liars. 

The kids are shocked when I tell them this is fake...

“Yeah right, I am sure your mother ‘always’ lets you watch WWE wrestling”

The other night I was lucky enough to accompany the family heads for a night at the opera.  We had tickets to see Die Frau Ohne Shatten [the woman without a shadow] by Strauss.  This particular opera is said to be one of the most complex, and of this years festival one of the best. 

I clean up rather nice

I had figured that the few nice shirts and slacks I had brought would warrant me entry into this production….I was very wrong.   Christian and Anja insisted I wear a very expensive suit of Christian’s along with a bow-tie (clip-on of course). 

Once we made it into Salzburg we headed toward the 3 major theaters under the shadow of the imposing city fortress mount.  The theaters sit along one street on the northern side.  Along this long straight street theater-goers dressed in their best hummed along the theaters champagne flutes in hand while tourists weighed down with phanypacks and cameras admired from the other side of the street, a long line of limousines forming a barrier between the two groups.  I walked behind the families and was at one point likened to their bodyguard due to my imposing build and ever-present sunglasses.  Beverages that after quick consumption laid upon our small table at a temporary theater bar were enveloped with volutes of cigarette smoke. 

My host parents Anja, Christian and myself

It was a surreal experience; I felt that my rough hands and sun-soaked skin highlighted me as an intruder into this upper-echelon culture. 

The Opera was comprised of 3 acts each rough an hour in length with 2 20-minute breaks.  German and English subtitles aided me in translating the beautiful tones that resonated from the performers.  We were seated in the 9^th row center-stage, I could not believe it, upon inspection of my ticket I discovered the price of my presence here, 370 euro.  I was on high alert, “ I MUST APPRECIATE THIS OPERA!” I told myself.  All of my senses were keen on soaking up every element of this performance. 

The show was beautiful in many ways, and afterwards we enjoyed an amazing meal with bottles of wine and champagne that I likely will not be able to afford until much later in my life.  The entire evening was a taste of ‘higher living’.  I tried to show my appreciation of the performance to my hosts and they praised me for ‘surviving’ and enjoying a form of entertainment not typically appreciated by my age group. 

Beach at Mondsee

The following day was much less stiff and offered opportunity for immature behavior.  Once everyone woke we piled into a van and drove a short 5 km to Mondsee.  This large lake and its impressive setting appear quietly over the green hills and milk farms.  We entered a paid beach area that offered food facilities, showers, 2 waterslides, and multiple floating playgrounds in the water.  I assisted the adults in establishing our piece of grass and lathering the kids in sunscreen while they shook with anticipation for the water.  The weather as of late had been unpredictable and the fiery sun of this day was heartily welcomed.  The kids called upon me to go everywhere and do everything with them.  I acted as a propeller for a small raft that the 4 kids clung to.  The water was of a perfect refreshing temperature and despite my poor swimming abilities I did not wish to venture back onto land. 

dinner

After a long day bathing in the water of [Moon Lake] Mondsee and the fire of the sun we loaded the van and drove to a small fish farm.  Here one can rent fishing polls and fish the pond, paying for your bounty by the kilo. 

“I will show you how to fish!” exclaimed Louis eagerly.

I offered a thankful and excited response when in my mind I thought “show ME how to fish?!?! Move child.”

I caught 4 out of the group’s total 6 fish.  After my 4^th I was invited to relax with a bier, I accepted and committed myself to aiding the children in their casting techniques. 

The fish we caught were local Reinanke, sort of a mix between a trout in salmon approximately 15 inches in length.  Once we finished Charlie and myself gutted and cleaned our catch which we would barbeque and eat that night.  My nostrils welcomed the familiar smell of fish blood and my skin the glow of the sun, a perfect day.

As of late I have committed my free time to the production of watercolor paintings.  Whereas before long bouts of xbox or trips to the bars with friends would consume my nights, I now find myself painting and sketching with vigor under a lone light of this small village in the early morning hours.  The constant presence of a pencil and brush tucked on my ear has warranted me the nickname der Maler [the painter].  For some reason I have always collected names other than my own… For the past 4 years I was known as Espy throughout the Greek community of UO– a shorthand name for Espinosa.  In the dorms I was dubbed Brick, an obvious allusion to my physique and its stark contrast to those starved bodies of the Art and Architecture dorm.  Now in Austria the families have began calling me Dave without my suggestion.  It seems that the only people in this world destined to call me by my given name David are a few friends and family in California, even then my closest family members refer to me as Day-day.  And yes, I do immediately regret sharing that embarrassing name on the internet…