Don't Encourage Me: A Warm and Previously Unusual Welcome to Berlin

Dear Curious,

I´m not going to make it much of a personal goal to try to get through everything I´ve experienced or thought thus far because that would just bore you after too many lines, no matter the content. That´s really just a concession I had to accept I´d have to repeatedly make when I chose not to pursue the role of an author in my professional career. I can hear some of you sighing a breath of relief all the way over here in Germany.

The first thing I noticed as I flew into Germany is that they decided not to chop down all their trees like we did. Even as large as Berlin is, it seems as if they still tried to “nestle” the place into the woods, as if it were built by a team of industrial fairies straight out of Fern Gully.

The second thing I noticed is that I was able to notice the first thing as I flew in at 9:30pm. It doesn´t get dark here until nearly 10:30, then the damn sun comes up at just after 6am, meaning there´s plenty of light in the sky during the 5 o´clock hour. “None to worry,” the locals assure me, “during the winter the opposite happens,” producing temperatures of as little as -20 degrees Celsius (which is far lower than -20 Fahrenheit).

German folks appear to be significantly taller and skinnier than the typical Texan. I´m right around average height in Texas and probably America. I can almost always look around the room and find the same number of people shorter as are taller than me. But in Germany, I feel like a midget. My initial guess is that people are on average a full inch (and perhaps 1.5”) taller. And as far as weight goes, I´ll simply say that I haven´t seen a single person I believe even might be over 300 pounds. Of course they don´t have Wal-Marts for these people to congregate in either.

I´ll end by retelling an unexpected first Berlin presented me with today. I decided to strike out into unknown territory and just get lost on the rail and get out wherever I finally got dizzy. I emerged at a little station exit named Kurfürsten-Straße. There wasn´t anything particularly dazzling about the place, but I pressed on, anyway.

As I turned a corner I became aware that a girl was meandering strangely around a parking area. She gave the impression she was trying to get my attention, but she made no overt gesture to indicate so much so I walked along pondering the occurrence and keeping her in my peripheral vision, noting that she had definitely altered her course toward me.

Then I became aware of a regularly dressed, small and Hispanic-looking girl just in front of me who was also walking my way, making eye contact as she moved. This was very noticeable, as one of the quickly defining characteristics of the German people seems to be that they stick to their own business. Then she asked something her German accent that I couldn´t quite make out.

I asked politely, “I´m sorry. What?”

Abandoning her first attempt, she responded with an equally polite smile and quick but slightly hesitant answer in a different wording, “Sechs.”

For those of you not studying the German language, this means “six.” Immediately I understood. She was obviously an undercover Sesame Street character peddling out the daily wares. And while I have to admit that six is one of my favorite numbers, I just wasn´t in the mood for it at the moment and politely declined her offer with a, “No, but thank you!” feeling as if I gave a strange emphasis to the thanks.

As I continued to walk along I continued to notice a multitude of other high-heeled ladies who had obviously been affected by the children´s television show as much as I was because they were all very friendly and eager to make eye contact. Despite this, I felt the strange sensation that this wasn´t the best part of town. And since I had my passport on me, I felt it wise to move on to a safer feeling area.

So thanks to Berlin for introducing me to the Sesame Street mafia. That´s a very memorable first for me.

And a few pictures to keep you visually stimulated...