A Day Off

I will begin with a bad pun, given where I am, but Friday night I hit the wall. I was in bed by nine and didn't get up until after nine Saturday morning. Twelve hours after that, I was still tired and was so very happy that evening does eventually follow daylight and that bedtime heaves into sight, every night, at last. It has been an exhausting two weeks, hitting the ground running as I did; no wonder my brain and body both rebelled.

In spite of the fatigue, I walked a good bit Saturday, out and about with Hannah, who is likewise fatigued, to the farmers' market (pecorino!) and paper stores (still on the sketchbook quest; fail) and later out with Maggie for her evening stroll. It was a pleasantly cool early fall day; suddenly this week it is dark noticeably earlier.

Neither of us felt like cooking so we went out for Vietnamese again, always a good choice for tired people who have not eaten particularly well all day. (On days when I have not had my vegetables, I am now able to say "We are not gemused.") We then holed up all evening with our books and laptops, Hannah working on her academic papers on Pope Gregory VII and the Habsburgs, and I moving restlessly between online apartment-hunting and reading my novel. We took frequent Maggie breaks.

Berlin has me thinking about relationships, as what I am doing here these days is establishing a new one, with the city itself. Getting oriented in a city is almost exactly like meeting a new person, beginning with elementary chitchat. Lovely weather we're having = I don't yet need a sweater. I like your hat = This is a pretty park. What do you do for a living = What IS the economic base here? I venture a little farther afield each weekday, but weekends have been for sleeping, cramming for German tests, and doing laundry. We are at an early stage of acquaintanceship.

My hubs so far are two: Hannah's apartment and the Goethe Institute, in two vastly different neighborhoods. The GI is right in the heart of Mitte, the cultural and historic "center" of the city, if Berlin can be said to have one. It is really more like a bunch of smaller cities stuck together, each one with a distinct personality, like any big city I suppose, but less homogenized than, say, a place like Seattle. Mitte is home to the major museums, the Berliner Dom (technically a "cathedral" in name only as it has never been the seat of a Catholic bishop but always a Protestant institution), the Brandenburg Gate, Unter den Linden, and the most famous modern landmark, the Fernsehturm, Berlin's TV-tower answer to the Space Needle.

I have mentioned that Hannah lives in gritty (I need a new adjective!) Friedrichshain, an industrial working-class district that was heavily bombed during the war and then was part of Soviet East Berlin until the Wall came down. Cheap rent and lots of empty flats made it popular for students and artists right after reunification, but as ALWAYS happens, the cheap-rent era has been followed by gradual gentrification and a slow rise in rents. Although still pretty dirty, F'hain has become a hot spot for the twenty- and thirty-somethings who like its club scene. Students and artists are now moving to the next cheap areas...and so the cycle will go on. I am looking for apartments in Prenzlauerberg, Kreuzberg, and the quieter, cleaner parts of Friedrichshain, near the Volkspark. I hope to find something this week.

Once I find a place and get settled, my relationship with Berlin will change yet again, from first-time visitor in June, to currently displaced flat-seeker, to actual resident, at least for a time. I am eager for that phase to begin. In the meantime, I have a test tomorrow on noun declensions, comparitives, and the passive voice. I think I'll go to the fleamarket.