Berlin's Bizarre Birthday

Uh, not sure how to begin this one. I suppose some context: back in September I had run into an open-air exhibit called Stadt der Vielfalt (City of Diversity). The exhibit was one of several to commemorate Berlin's 775th birthday this year that culminated with last night's celebrations.

Twilight installation in Nikolaiviertel

A little more background: Berlin turned 775 yesterday, but this is only his? her? her. her 4th birthday celebration ever. The first one to celebrate 700 years was in 1937, put on by the you-know-whos, and then two 750th birthdays were celebrated respectively in West and East Berlin in 1987. In a way, this was Berlin's first "unsoiled" birthday and the city took it as an opportunity to acknowledge the past but make a statement about the way it sees itself today and where it wants to go in the future.

Yes, this moose in stripper shoes was part of the celebration

I walked into the entire celebration a bit blind, expecting something like a typical Christmas market minus the Christmas. You know, Bratwurst and Gluehwein and live music and cookie hearts and the occasional Dirndl or Lederhosen. Your usual German festival fare. Instead I was greeted by excessive amounts of open flame and interpretive theater. I suppose it was nice that the planners mixed it up and threw in some social commentary about global warming and whatnot, but it kinda freaked me out a little. I just wasn't prepared! And the fact that I was still nursing a Sunday hangover, it being Halloween time, and there being a full moon just didn't help things.

Moose in stripper shoes approaches baby alien in ball

Berlin's only "medieval" quarter, the Nikolaiviertel, was covered in fire. A bunch of metal circle cages with inflamed flower pots and little men with clocks as heads, lightbulbs on fire as hands, rolling back and forth on unicycles on tightropes... I couldn't make this stuff up if I tried. My very insightful friend Kelly put 2 and 2 together: fire to represent light during medieval times and metal men with clocks as heads moving back and forth represented us moving from past to present (and then maybe back to the past? making the same mistakes? that was my only contribution). My "ooh cultural differences!" brain kicked in and I couldn't stop thinking how the US would never put so much open flame in a public space for fear of being sued after some drunk idiot got too close and burned himself or tossed his beer into the fire leading to a few people losing their eyebrows.

Nastya, Kelly, and I staying warm by the medieval lighting

A wounded tree and some magical creatures

Guarding or about to decapitate a lone sunflower.
I thought guarding- I'm a "glass half-full" type of girl.

At any rate it was a sight to be seen and I am glad to have seen the sight. I was even more glad to escape to a warm cafe with Kelly and Giovanni afterward to decompress with an adult hot chocolate. Quick tip for the next celebration, Berlin: if you want us to watch people dressed as fish flopping around on volleyball courts, a little Gluehwein wouldn't hurt.

Nikolaiviertel: U/S Alexanderplatz or S/Hackescher Markt (across from the Rotes Rathaus/Red Townhall)

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 Big B

Entrance to Katharinenhof

Berlin is, of course, my main B. And it's certainly big, population wise. But geographically, for a state, it's pretty small (did you know Berlin is one of the three cities in Germany that is a city and a state?). The other big B that I am referring to is Brandenburg, a former East German state that surrounds Berlin on all sides. See?

Brandenburg is perhaps most famous for the town of Potsdam, where tourists go to see Friedrich the Great's castles and Schloss Cecilienhof, where the Potsdam Conference was held after World War II. But B-burg has many more "corners" as the Germans say, and many of those corners are pretty rural. On Saturday evening, my friend Keighley and I took the train out to Brandenburg to attend a Hoffest, or farmyard party. Keighley's boss and a few other families co-own the farmhouse and throw this summer shindig every year, and I happily accompanied Keighley as her "plus one." 

Party invitation

The Hoffest took place out in Gransee, a town about an hour train ride from Berlin. Already 15 minutes outside of the city we saw livestock, pastures, and just lots of things you don't see in Berlin. Keighley and I were both starving and started to munch on some chocolate she had brought along and enjoyed the view. Once we got to Gransee her boss picked us up in a really old Jeep-like contraption, drove us a bit through town to show us the requisite main drag and super old church (didn't take long) and then we hobbled up the stone path to the farmhouse. The farmhouse is called Katharinenhof to which I immediately felt an affinity- but only because my middle name is Katharina, not because I am used to farms.

Grazers

I'm really bad at estimating numbers, but there must have been a good 150+ people at the party. And an extremely mixed crowd age-wise. I couldn't remember the last time I saw so many little kids, especially ones free-ranging and shrieking with cake smeared all over their faces. After making three efficient trips to the buffet for goodies like potato and cucumber salad, pasta, bread, cheese, and lots of red wine, we befriended a few other 20-somethings who were kind enough to share their blanket with us. A bunch of people had also set up tents because they planned to stay the night, but (not so) unfortunately, we weren't able to find ourselves one in time. (Shhh, I'm not much of a camper.)

Party Campers

Dance room

In the backyard they had a huge screen set up that played Jungle Book for the little ones (dubbed in German which was interesting), and then a movie they had created about the Hof which is about to celebrate its 100 year anniversary. The Hof was originally owned by two Jewish sisters in 1912 who grew fruit that was shipped and sold in Berlin. The sisters were later deported to a concentration camp, and in one part of the video, their now elderly niece talked a bit about her memories of her aunts and summers on the Hof. The rest of the video showed the young kids who now spend their summers there (probably the same ones who drew the invitation), jumping across bales of hay, exploring dark corners of the house with flashlights, and screaming in delight at bugs and strange noises. Made me think of my summers in the mountains in France with my sister and cousins: exploring the forest, picking blueberries, and splashing about in our nearby "Dream Stream."  

Keighley and I

Once it got dark, we were able to look up and see the enormous sky speckled with stars, and man, that stirs something inside of you if you don't see it often. At one point we may have even seen a shooting star. That, or a realllly small airplane. Not that this city girl would know the difference. 

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.

Birthday Lesson

Birthday trio still smiling at the brewery

Last weekend I celebrated my first birthday in Berlin. Well, my 27th birthday, but my first one in Berlin. A bunch of my friends here also have birthdays in July, so my buddies Keighley, Max, and I decided to throw a joint party on Saturday the 14th. Keighley's bday was the 13th, mine the 15th, and Max's the 22nd. Now it's important to know that in Germany, celebrating before your actual birthday is just not done. Germans believe this is very bad luck, indeed. So much so that when we celebrated my Opa's 80th on Memorial Day Weekend, a couple days before his actual birthday, we were only allowed to call it his "Pre-80th birthday celebration." So much so that when I cooked for my office on Friday (it's customary here to supply treats for your own birthday), everyone complimented my food and asked about my weekend plans, but did not dare to wish me a happy birthday.

Celebrating my birthday at the office

There is one exception to this rule called "reinfeiern" which translates loosely to "celebrating into," basically celebrating through midnight when it becomes your actual birthday. So Friday the 14th I was in the clear, and as is tradition, no Germans wished me a happy birthday until the stroke of midnight, when I was accosted with kisses, hugs, and gifts.

I was accosted by something else at midnight, namely the bar manager who decided he didn't like our group and threw us out shortly thereafter. We had picked a brewery called "Brauerei am Rollberg" for our shindig in Neukoelln, a neighborhood which is heavily populated by Turks and one of Berlin's poorest and most "dangerous." Many of my friends live there (if not there then only slightly north in Kreuzberg) and the area has become quite hip in recent years, with more and more young people moving in and cool bars and restaurants with them.

Two Americans, a Brit, and a Belgian!

We (I) had called the bar the day before to warn them we were a slightly larger group and to ask if it was ok if we brought cake. Right away I noticed the guy was an ass, but he claimed it would be fine if we were outside and that they just couldn't put tables together. So on the night of the party we started outside as promised, but when temps dipped into the 50s (yes, 50s in mid-July, my coldest birthday EVER) we moved inside, with the waitress' assistance. Our group grew over the next couple hours, to be expected when 3 people share a celebration, and we took up about 40% of the place, some of us at tables and some at the bar. We were a pretty lovely group though, if I do say so myself. Very diverse with Americans, Brits, Germans, French, Turks, Eastern Europeans, etc., and we all bought plenty of drinks to justify our presence without getting rowdy or too loud. But for some reason, the (portly, white, middle-aged) manager did not like us. So about 4 minutes before I could properly "reinfeier," he pulled me aside and very aggressively claimed I had not listened to him on the phone, that we were too big of a group, that he wanted us out. Mind you, there was no line at the door of people trying to get in. No inappropriate behavior from our group. But as he "reasoned," this was his place and he could do as he saw fit, which in this case was get rid of us.

So we left. As we trickled outside and waited for the last few paying out their tabs, he shut off the outdoor lights and locked the door from the inside. A guy from another group (with lots of piercings and tattoos) came out and started chatting with us, explaining that the real reason for us getting kicked out is that we seemed "rich." Oh? The same guy who warned me on the phone that if we nursed an apple juice for 4 hours he would kick us out because he had to make money thought we had too much money? Yes, too much money. Too much education. Too little "typical Neukoelln." We represented the gentrification this man hated and as a political statement, he had kicked us out of his establishment to make room for the real Neukoellners: the poor, the immigrants (though we were the only immigrants there that we could see), the down-trodden. I guess my sparkly tank top and birthday smile gave me away.

Celebrating at another bar after the drama

The next few days, a slew of my friends left nasty reviews on Yelp, Qype (Germany's Yelp), Facebook (which they promptly deleted), etc. Probably exactly what they expected from us "affluent, educated consumers" and all. But it felt good anyway.

So, lesson learned? Maybe celebrating before your actual birthday really is bad luck. Or maybe, I just really live in Berlin now, and have to take the bad with the good. Others deal with far worse after all!

Adventures in Baking

Full disclosure: I'm not much of a baker. For most of my life, I was also not much of a cook. I remember one summer evening in college I attempted to sauté some spinach for Mark and I and thought it wise to add salt, pepper, garlic (should've stopped there...), cajun seasoning, soy sauce, honey, paprika, and pretty much anything else I could find on the spice rack. Mark, my boyfriend at the time, managed to get down a couple bites with a forced smile before we threw it out and turned our attention to the frozen ravioli we had boiled. Successfully.

My culinary education took place later, during stints abroad. Living in Tübingen and Lannion and cooking with international roommates and friends expanded my repertoire, but more importantly it got me to start viewing cooking as fun.

But not baking. Baking is hard. You need to be precise with measurements. You need to follow the recipe exactly. And you need to use flour which I always manage to get all over the kitchen and all over myself.

Despite this, I decided to give baking another go for a potluck I hosted last night with a recipe I've been eying for weeks: Nutella Pound Cake. I'm the type of person who eats Nutella straight from the jar by the spoonful so my excitement trumped any residual fear of flour.

My first challenge was to convert all the American measurements into grams. Apparently, a cup of flour and a cup of sugar do not convert into the same amount of grams. My sister, superior in all things culinary, explained that this is a volume vs. weight issue and that all real bakers measure in weight. Well to use weight, I needed a scale. So I went upstairs to my 80 year old neighbor and asked if I could borrow hers which she graciously handed over:

This scale is older than I am:

The second challenge was getting the stupid cake out of the pans. I don't really want to go into that because I lost a whole layer of delicious carmelized nutella in the first attempt and it's too painful to discuss.

The verdict: It was delicious, but I won't be baking anything else for awhile. More importantly, the potluck was a big success. Though there were two rooms available all 15 of us ended up eating in the same room in a big circle, how cute! Here are pictures of the apartment all ready for people to arrive and then during the party:

Blurry but cute one of Gio, Kel, and I: