Honeymoon Phase

When you move abroad, you expect it to be difficult at first. Leaving family and friends behind, dealing with new forms of bureaucracy, learning or improving your language skills, making new friends, in my case even finding a job. But it doesn't just start out difficult and get progressively easier with time. Reality is not linear. It ebbs and flows, comes and goes, and sometimes you find yourself wondering how as soon as things seem "figured out," you hit a rough patch.

At least that's been my experience. For me, moving to Berlin was the easy part. The door was wide open with possibilities but I also knew I could made a sharp turn at any time and go right back across that ocean. I was all sorts of excited, but not at all invested.

For the first half year or so I frolicked and explored and made wonderful friendships and ate an obscene amount of Goezleme. The whole not having a job thing was certainly stressful at times, but things eventually worked out and soon enough I had my Berlin bears in a row. I signed a contract, flew to Puerto Rico for my first work trip, celebrated with my Berlin buddies, and then flew home for a few weeks to spend time with the family. A happy whirlwind, indeed.

When I got back and started my job, in June 2012... that's when I hit my first rough patch. That summer was a tough one: adjustment in a new office and position, close Berlin friends off traveling, pitiful weather, and a fear that I had just committed to something that I wasn't 100% sure I wanted.

Come fall the anxiety had mostly faded, I was getting the hang of my job, and I'd established something resembling a routine. By the same time next year, Collidoscope was born and I was increasingly pleased with the direction my life was taking.

Now I'm close to the 2.5 year mark, and almost everything seems figured out. The job, the friends, the hobbies, the running, the traveling. But nonetheless, I find myself in rough patch #2. Nothing is wrong per se, but there is a nagging feeling that some of the excitement has waned and the comfort is settling in.

Hold on! This doesn't mean I'm planning on leaving, nor does it mean that I love the city any less. In fact, through all my self-analysis these past few months I think I've come to realize that I may now love the city even more. Is this possible? Is this what true love is?

I'll never be 100% sure as to what's going on in my overly-analytical-and-hyper-sensitive mind. But I've come to accept that Berlin is not the problem, I am. The reason I am increasingly nervous about what's "coming next" is because of all that I've built for myself here and how invested I've become.

The honeymoon phase is over. Berlin is no longer a risk I'm taking. It's a life I would be leaving.

Thirty

London

No, not me! I still have a little time before I hit that milestone. I did, however, reach another milestone this year: getting a 30th country under my belt, Croatia. Though far from considering myself a travel expert, I have picked up a few tricks over the years on my travels from everywhere from Cartagena to Copenhagen to Canada. Here are my five personal favorites.

1) Find a hotel

.... if you need a restroom.  Many countries have unfortunately not embraced the idea of free public restrooms, and they are often tricky to locate. I find that hotels are the best bet for a free pit stop as a tourist. They have so many people coming in and out they generally can't remember who's a guest and who isn't, and all of them have public restrooms on their main floors. It's foolproof! Otherwise I'm not such a big fan of hotels: Airbnb, small guesthouses, or better, staying with locals, is always my preference.

Copenhagen

2) Say (and learn) "Hello"

No one expects you to learn every language in the world and we all struggle when abroad. Learning a few words (like hello, thank you, please, and how much?) can go a long way. But no matter how much you struggle with language, say "hello" when you greet a waiter, hotel concierge, museum ticket seller, or bartender. Oftentimes these people greet throngs of tourists a day and just demanding what you want (in a foreign language, no less) doesn't go over so well. A smile and a short greeting in the local language can make all the difference.

Croatia

3) Get up early

...not just for the sunrise. Tourists tend to sleep in (it's vacation, after all!) but the locals are living their normal, every day lives. In busier touristy cities (think Prague, Paris, Dubrovnik) the morning is the best time to see locals going about their business as usual, rather than just your business as a tourist. While your fellow travelers are sleeping, they're heading to work, grabbing a coffee, and taking their kids to school. Prime people watching time.

Or mountain watching time. Alps, Switzerland

4) Don't make special meal requests

There aren't direct flights between Berlin and DC so I always end up transferring in London. During one of my layovers last year I was showing my passport at Heathrow when the attendant glanced over my boarding pass, typed something into his screen, and suddenly asked if I would like an upgrade. After enthusiastically nodding yes and thanking him profusely he leaned in and said, "you know why we picked you? Because you don't have a special meal request. We can't upgrade people with special meal requests because the meals are different in every class." You know, so they won't get sued if you eat something you said you didn't want to eat. What's the point of special meals anyway? Veggie options are pretty standard these days and unless you're allergic or do it for religious reasons I think we can all agree that no airplane meals are particularly "special" to begin with.

Berlin

5) When in doubt, ask the New York Times

These guys don't mess around. The recent 36 Hours in Berlin article profiled one of my absolute favorite restaurants in the city that is not even that popular (yet). In the last 1.5 years I've followed their guides for Dubrovnik, Krakow, and Copenhangen and haven't been disappointed once. (A bottle of NYT recommended Croatian wine that I lugged from Hvar-Dubrovnik-Berlin is sitting in my apartment as proof.) Of course it's great to be flexible and spontaneous and just see where the wind takes you, but sometimes you want the wind to know what it's talking about. Other than good ol' locals, I consider the NYT my reliable wind.

So there you have it. This coming winter I'll be backpacking around country #31 (unless I get a work travel surprise between now and Christmas): Sri Lanka. It'll be a different type of trip than I'm used to - less planning ahead, more go with the flow, a new region of the world - and I'm bound to add something to this list. In the meantime, there's always the NYT.

A Chance on Collidoscope

Ok, here's the truth: I've been cheating on Kaffee & Suchen.

After almost half a year of conceptualization, planning, and preparation over train rides, Monday night dinners, and strolls through the city, Kelly and I have given birth to our xenophile love child, Collidoscope Berlin.

This website is a collaborative project that examines migration, multiculturalism, and diversity from three angles: anthropology, education, and tourism. We see this website as a conversation-starter, an alternative storyteller, a democratic and inclusive view of the many peoples, spaces, and settings that confound the modern city. It's a response to the absurb claim that  "multiculturalism is dead" and a forum for seeing the city's collision of cultures as a positive and an opportunity for enrichment, rather than just a problem or challenge.

This project is a big deal for us. It represents our shared but also divergent interests: Kelly comes from the more anthropological angle, my perspective is more focused on international education and intercultural relations, which you'll notice in both our topic choices and writing styles. But most importantly, this website represents us taking a chance and electing to be part of the conversation. I'm curious to see what comes out of it.

What you can expect for now is 2-3 posts a week, generally falling into one of our feature categories: Rants & Raves (something we hate or love), Interview (the unstructured structured interview), Lens (our perspective in a story), or Happy Weekend (a "non-sceney" tip for the weekend). 

As it stands, full-time job + Collidoscope + volunteering + social life + travel + regular visitors + the occasional jog = a busy Sophia, so something needed to give. Unfortunately, it will most likely be Kaffee & Suchen for the time being. I'm sticking around, but the posts will become notably more intermittent. I hope you can forgive me, and more importantly, I hope you will keep up with our journey through Berlin on Collidoscope, because it's important that everyone see the city through a different lens from time to time.

  

The Delightful Danes

Living in Berlin, I always knew I would make it to Copenhagen someday. Yet despite a general interest to visit, the prospect never seemed as exciting as planning trips to Croatia, Istanbul, or even Krakow. Maybe it's because it's so close: the flight from one capital to the other takes less than an hour meaning the ride from my apartment to the airport was literally longer than flight time. Or maybe Scandinavia just seems too similar to Germany culturally to feel at all exotic. Either way, it was a no-brainer in my travel to-dos, and my excitement soon kicked in upon arrival.

Excited about the discovery of a library-cafe for our first meal

I'm not usually one for stereotypes, but sometimes I make exceptions when they veer on the positive side. Really, I just want to share a few of my impressions of the Danes which will likely be over-generalized and premature given I only spent three days there and had close contact with all of one actual Dane. Not exactly the stuff of ethnographic studies, but enough to affirm some suspicions as well as shed some light on our friendly neighbor to the north. So I hope you'll indulge me just this once.

Copenhagen is every city. But better. It's a ludicrous statement that is highly linked to my very thematic-prone brain, but I'm going with it anyway. Multiple times a day while in Copenhagen I found myself reminded of other cities. One moment I'm jogging along the water and thinking of Amsterdam, and the next I'm peering up at a couple cafes overflowing with people-watchers assembled in rows of outer-facing chairs and picturing Paris. The language and orderliness kept reminding me of home (both of them), and the cosmopolitanism and water everywhere reminded me of Hamburg... and I haven't been to Hamburg yet! Copenhagen felt like a utopian port city: It has absorbed influences from around the world but the influence feels reciprocal and seamless, not forced. 

Danish is like German. No, English. No... Denglish. Kelly and I were in language heaven in Copenhagen. As soon as we got to the airport we were giggling and pointing out words, excited to find so many connections to our languages. In the airport we immediately spotted Ankomst for arrivals which is clearly related to "to arrive" in German, ankommen. Though the language certainly leaned more toward German, a lot of it reminded us of English, too. This makes sense given that English is a Germanic language (English native speakers: keep that in mind the next time you say German is an ugly language). Denmark, like the rest of Scandinavia, is known for their high English proficiency, so we were free to get by in our native tongue while learning a few words just for fun. The word we ended up using most often? Mange tak which means thank you. Mange: what do you see more? "Many" in English or Menge in German ("amount" or "plenty")? Tak: a shortened version of "thanks" or danke? Oh, the joys of language.  

Look! Language!

May as well be the German "Reichstaggarten"

The Danes are the perfect amount of confident. Their education system may not be as good as the Finnish one and they may get the short end of the stick when it comes to IKEA furniture names, but Denmark is still part of the elite club known as Scandinavia. A certain confidence comes with being a member of this region, but people are educated and open to other cultures and languages, coming off as much more modest than those from another country I know. They're a happy and healthy and secure bunch riding their bikes, earning their overtime salaries, and eating lots of omega 3s and whole grains. They struck me as very balanced, and I am a fan of balance.

Mmmmm herring

Denmark is struggling with their growing multiculturalism. Like many European countries, Denmark is still struggling to see itself as a country of immigration and multiculturalism. Kelly and I were enchanted with a neighborhood in the city called Nørrebro which is full of Arabs, Turks, and many other Middle Eastern and ethnic groups. Our (young) Danish friend of a friend slash tour guide was so surprised at how much time we ended up spending there that he said he would start to bring more future visitors to the neighborhood, not having realized it could be so interesting for tourists. Kelly and I were beyond interested: Nørrebro made both of us wish we could spend a summer in the city, and we began devising a plan for me to propose a Copenhagen project to my bosses and for Kelly to tag along as my devoted assistant. A dog factored into that plan somewhere, too. 

Nørrebro

Nørrebro mutlilingual statue about coexisting... yes please!

The Danes are puuuurty. I wish I had a picture of the barista at that one coffeeshop. Or the waiter at that Nørrebro cocktail bar. Or the waiter at that Nørrebro restaurant. It's rare I ever find a guy on the street attractive, but in Copenhagen I was accosted by good looks multiple times a day. It didn't help that the men I saw were tall with chiseled features, many possessing that mysterious dark hair, light eye combo that makes me a bit weak in the knees. The girls were nice, too, I'm sure, but I was a bit distracted. Mange tak for the eye candy, Copenhagen.

Transnational

Volkspark Friedrichshain

No matter how much I fly, I always get the pre-trip flutters before a big travel day. Tomorrow I fly back to the States for the first time since May, and through all my excitement to see my parents at the airport, my sister and three closest childhood friends the following day, and a host of family and friends the following 2.5 weeks, I can't help but be somewhat nervous. And my nervousness was only heightened by the news of the devastating Connecticut school shooting today.

A few friends and I gathered this evening to cook our last meal together in 2012 when we learned about the shooting. With four American expats at the dinner, the criticism of the US and many American policies quickly began to fly around the room. We were heartbroken, furious, and at the same time, acutely conscious of how living in Europe has shifted our perspective on such issues. It is clear that any American would feel heartbroken and furious at such news, but no matter how initially shocking, the shock may wear off more quickly because it's becoming tragically commonplace to hear this type of news in the US. School shootings certainly don't happen every day in the US but they happen a hell of a lot more there than here- the US did experience two separate public shootings in the course of this week, after all.

As we digested the news, we also reflected on the fact that such events remind us of why we moved here in the first place. Not because of school shootings in particular, but because the world just functions a bit differently on this side of the Atlantic, and although we all came for different reasons, we find comfort in and feel connected to that world.

The longer I stay in Berlin, the longer I see myself staying here. In many ways, I see raising a family easier here, my quality of life being higher, a certain standard of living guaranteed for me should things get rough at any point, and a basic standard of living for others that I fundamentally believe should be guaranteed to all, especially in a developed country. I certainly don't need to make any long-term decisions now, but I'm aware that eventually the time will come where I have to choose the US or Europe in a somewhat permanent way. And as incredibly wonderful as it is to go home for a visit, it reminds me of everything, and more importantly, everyone, that I have to leave behind should my choice be here.

Musings and Markets

Charlottenburg

Same city, same decorations, but man does Christmas in Berlin feel different this year than last year. When I got here just over a year ago, I spent a lot of time strolling Berlin's streets by myself, figuring out where everything was, heading from cafe to cafe to do a little remote work for MPI or continue the job search. Occasionally I met up with Giovanni, or Anna, or one or two other friends of friends that I had been connected with, but otherwise spent lots of time alone. I got locked into a Starbucks one night while downloading movies to watch at home (no internet in my apartment those days), had hours of idle time during the day to do whatever I pleased, and still felt wrong tipping less than 20% at restaurants. Germany was not new for me, but the circumstances of being here were. Things were exciting, but also quite disorienting, kind of how I imagine Santa might actually feel attempting a hand-stand.

Mitte

Now I'm out and about so much I barely have time to watch a movie, or even spend time in Starbucks downloading one. The Christmas kitsch and market photos I do manage to snap I do so hastily, while heading with running group to a late dinner after training, meeting a friend for a quick weekend coffee, or racing home from work to tidy up before people come over.

Kreuzberg

With just a couple short weeks before my trip home for the holidays, I am going to try and soak up as much of Berlin Christmas as I can, because Germany really does Weihnachten better than anyone else. I'm starting with a trip to a Christmas market this afternoon for my first market Glühwein of the season, followed by a trip to another Christmas market with friends tomorrow, and then yet another market next week with colleagues for our work Christmas party. Think that should about cover it.

Ku'damm

Every Thanks, Everywhere

During my daily ritual of struggling to throw off my warm comforter and pull myself out of bed this morning, I thought about my last few Thanksgiving celebrations. Last year in 2011, I had just moved to Berlin and flew over to London to visit some family and friends. I celebrated Thanksgiving with a couple friends from college and their London crew at a big potluck. I made roasted veggies. In 2010, I was in grad school and traveled to NYC to celebrate with my aunt, uncle, and cousins. My aunt cooked a splendid meal as she always does and we drank loads of wine as we always do. I made the roasted veggies. The last time I was in DC with family for Thanksgiving was 2009 it seems. I'm pretty sure I made roasted veggies.

Veggies pre-roasting 2011, London

Somewhere along the line that is my life, Thanksgiving morphed into my favorite holiday. Christmas is still the big one in our family: it brings us all together without fail and will always remind me of our Oma who planned and executed every Weihnachten of our childhood, from the decorations to the music to the "boxes" to the big meal on the 24th to hiding the cookies from Opa. If I could only have one holiday, it would be Christmas, for these reasons.

Veggies post-roasting in 2010, NYC

But Thanksgiving, in its essence, is my favorite. Christmas certainly revolves around a big meal and loved ones, but it's simpler at Thanksgiving. Food and people are the star of the show. It's why people rush to the store to get the last frozen turkey and can of cranberry sauce, why people fly across the country or take long road trips in awful traffic to get home for just a couple days. I appreciate these rituals and this effort, but I personally don't find it necessary. For me, there is no need for turkey or cranberry sauce: for years my family did nontraditional Thanksgiving meals like surf & turf, quail, duck, and seafood stew. We drank heavy reds instead of Beaujoulais, and we bought our pies at Trader Joe's, when we had them at all. I'm obviously not one to criticize travel, but I am always content to spend Thanksgiving somewhere other than DC. It's comforting to know that Christmas is around the corner and I'll be home then anyway, and it's an opportunity to spend a special day with other people you care about, or maybe have recently met. It's a warm, fuzzy holiday that besides the cooking (and travel), is really relaxing. One could say I already spent my Thanksgiving this year with a group of Poles, Germans, Israelis, and Ukranians in a small town in central Poland a few days ago where we consumed immense amounts of food like schnitzel and pierogi, drank a few rounds of wodka, and sang songs from all our countries. 

Dinner in Poland, 2012

I'm a lucky girl though, and have the good fortune of celebrating again tonight with a group of friends in Berlin. Not only is it Thanksgiving, but it is also Kelly's birthday. I will be making...... garlic mashed potatoes. But you better believe I'll be roasting the crap out of that garlic first.

Happy Thanksgiving to all my family and friends celebrating today, wherever you are, whatever you are eating. I am thankful for all of you.

One

When I first arrived to Berlin exactly one year ago, I had a return ticket in hand and plenty of doubts. Whether the whole move would pan out- if I'd find the perfect job and lots of German friends and not miss home too much- was unknown. What I did know is I needed to try.

A year later, I don't have the perfect job and lots of German friends and I can't say I don't miss home. My job is very good- great in some ways- and challenging/difficult in others, the way any job should be. My group of friends is heavily English speaking but relatively international and objectively awesome, and my German friend group is growing at a snail's pace, the way German friendships tend to work. I don't necessarily miss "home" so much, but the people I miss terribly sometimes. The same way I would if I lived anywhere outside of DC for a job or the same way I miss friends from school, study abroad, and France, as well as the European side of my family when I'm in DC.

So it's not perfect, but it's real, and every day it gets a little more real. Rushing to make the bus in the morning for work, grabbing a bottle of wine to take to a friend's place for dinner, traveling 4 hours to visit family for the weekend... sometimes I forget I haven't been here longer than a year already. That was a confusing way to write that last sentence, but you get me.

Somewhat inappropriately I am not in Berlin today to celebrate our anniversary (sorry, Berlin). Instead I'm out west with Kelly in a small town called Soest to visit family and experience the 675th Soester Kirmes, which I've coined the Spring Break of Northwest Germany. But more to come on that later.

In the meantime, Happy Berlinniversary to me. Wonder where I'll be writing from next year! 

A Shot at Life

Hi, friends. I don't know about you, but I'm coming off an exhausting weekend. This morning the fatigue hit me like a truck, and with it the astounding realization that I took not one photo all weekend. Ok, I took two photos, but that may as well be no photos for me. One was of an election advertisement and the other of a band playing at the flea market. And look at everything I did! Drinks and live music, yoga, Turkish market, cafe, errands, clean, cook dinner with friends, bar, other bar for dancing, flea market, eat everything in said flea market, cafe, cheese market, consume a huge plate of cheese and two glasses of wine in said cheese market, bar for another glass of wine, karaoke, late-night Turkish snack at Alexanderplatz. That's 2 musical performances, 3 markets, and 7 neighborhoods in one weekend. I won't even attempt to count the number of glasses of wine. Maybe this is really living- being so caught up in the moments you're experiencing that taking photos of the moments doesn't even cross your mind. I can be down with that from time to time. But since I can't regale you with shots of my fun-filled weekend, I'll throw in some recent gems that got lost in the shuffle. A weekend without pictures is one thing, a photo-less blog post quite another.

Homemade bread at a colleague's house in Israel

Bathroom wall wisdom

Trendspotting on the U-Bahn

"Bowling Abend" with colleagues

Not our living room: Kiki Sol, our new favorite spot in Wedding

Jerusalem: Smoked salmon foccacia for... one?

Ze Veekend

Weekends should always be like this. Full of burritos, curry, helping friends move to nice apartments, meeting friends for coffee, eating in green gardens, lying around in parks, chatting on balconies, and video chatting with family. Hope yours was just as lovely.

  

 

The Boys (and Girlz) are Back in Town

Reunited friends in Kreuzberg

I've always been a summer girl, but Berlin didn't make it so easy this year. I celebrated my July birthday in rainy 50 degree temperatures, struggled to climb a steep learning curve at work, and eagerly awaited the return of a few of my favorite Berliners who were off taking road trips across the US, visiting family in Italy, and working on farms and hitchhiking through Europe while surviving off Nutella sandwiches.

Now that summer is drawing to a close, I have three of my closest Berlin buddies back. Last night, a few of us gathered to celebrate Kelly's triumphant return from Portugal with sushi, red wine, chocolate, and lots of giggling. As if we needed to make Kelly coming back even more awesome, give Sophia some sushi, red wine, and chocolate, and she will really be im siebten Himmel.

It's not all good news, though. In a mere 10 or so days, we say goodbye to our dear friend Josh, who is moving to France to start his master's. Sad face!

It's to be expected. Berlin, like Washington, DC, is a transient place. People come and go with jobs, programs, and for a lot of my expat, traveling, study abroad friends, antsiness for their next adventure. In DC, it never affected me as much because my core base was so strong (you know, the whole having grown up there thing). In Berlin, I'm still on slightly shaky ground, so it hits me a bit harder. And while the new job, the travel, and my lovely guests have proven to be a good distraction this summer, I am very much looking forward to fall.

My First Iftar

I don't observe Ramadan but I am always up for a good cultural experience, so I jumped on an invitation to have Iftar dinner with my Tunisian-German friend Hana and some of her family last Monday. After work I met Hana and we drove out to Spandau, just outside of Berlin, where one of her five sisters lives with her family.

Hana and one of her adorable nephews

Iftar is the fast-breaking evening meal during the month of Ramadan when observing Muslims only eat before sunrise and after sunset. The month of Ramadan shifts every year, but in summer months it is especially difficult because the sun rises earlier and sets later. Hana said she had gotten up at 3:30am to eat that morning and it was just after 9pm by the time we sat down to dinner. Thank goodness we're not in Finland.

Hana, her nephew, and I before dinner

I decided to do my part by eating less that day than usual leading up to the meal, meaning I didn't have bread with my lunch salad and stayed away from snacks. Still I felt like the one most eager to eat by the time we sat down with the first course. Hana noted that they tried to eat slowly and deliberately after a long day of fasting because their digestion can act up after many hours of not eating. Apparently she and her younger sister had gorged on pasta the night before and had major stomachaches afterward.

The food was delicious and abundant. We started with a light soup with a bit of lemon which is traditional for the first course. Following the soup came some fried crispy things, and who doesn't like fried crispy things?! Then came the main course: peppers stuffed with meat and sauce, rice, and salad.

My plate

I happily ate everything and then split one last fried crispy thing with Hana before we adjourned to the living room to rub our bellies and prepare for dessert. Hana's friend had brought some yummy baklava-esque concoction filled with a soft creamy mild cheese, a sprinkling of crushed pistachios, and drizzled with sugary syrup. Man was it good. Lots of cookies, chocolates, nougat, and watermelon also graced the table.

Dessert

One interesting last thing to note was the water. I noticed Hana's older sister pour something into the bottle and when I took a sip from my class, I immediately felt like I was drinking cleaning solution. I must have made a face because Hana laughed and asked if the water was too strange for me. Apparently in Tunisia it is an Iftar staple to drink water with orange blossom essence, which to me tasted like Windex. I'm all for trying new things but after a few more brave sips gave up and drank juice.

After-dinner lounging

TLV to TXL

The beautiful Mediterranean

Just got back from what was supposed to be a 1.5 day trip to Tel Aviv (crazy, I realize) and ended up being 4 days. After two extended work trips, I really have to start packing smarter (e.g. extra underwear). I got back to Berlin last night at 8:45pm, raced home, showered, grabbed some stuff at the supermarket since they're closed Sundays, and hightailed it across town to a friend's going away party until 4am. The party was incredible- 3 live bands playing in a church basement rumored to be some abandoned crypt, followed by a delicious veggie burger and curly fries to cap off the night/morning. Not a bad way to be welcomed back by Berlin. 

Jam Session at the end of the party

Oh, and also, my eyes were fully exposed to the Israeli sun for 4 days because I was sure I had left my sunglasses back in Berlin. As soon as I got back and started rifling through my work purse, I found them in the front pocket.

Squinty in Tel Aviv

Life at Night

As much as I like to go out and dance, as a girl who likes (no, needs) her 8 hours a night, Berlin's nightlife can be overwhelming. Clubs stay open all night and I have friends who have been known to stay out until 10 or 11am before they hobble home and collapse. Or show up at my place for brunch covered in glitter.

This past weekend, I managed to muster up the energy to attend social engagements both Friday and Saturday evenings. On Friday, our office had our very first company outing to a "beach bar" along the Halensee, one of Berlin's many... lakes? ponds? mini-seas? I don't know but you can swim there. We took over a lounge area like the one you see below and sipped some cocktails before half of us (me included) hopped in for a quick dip. We snuck up and splashed the land dwellers who were still nice enough to pass down our drinks so we could simultaneously sip and swim.

Ku'damm Beach Bar

The next night I met friends for a monthly event called Soul Inn at a club in Kreuzberg. We were the first to arrive at midnight (literally, the first) but quickly swarmed the dance floor. The music is soul, funk, blues, etc., and it's a refreshing change to the usual electro and house that pervade the club scene in Berlin. Plus there are fun(ny) extras like a disco ball, old video clips of people who dance way better than we do, and a fog machine.

Soul Inn at Lido

The rest of my weekend was mostly spent recovering, watching movies, and devouring pad thai from the friendly neighborhood Thai Park (one day I'll explain what that is). Tomorrow it's off to Tel Aviv for a couple days of meetings. Back by the weekend to tell you all about my first Iftar (Ramadan dinner) experience yesterday and complain about Israeli airport security.