I flew back from Kiev, Ukraine last week, en route to a home I had never seen before. Luckily, Chris was home that night so I knew I wasn't coming home to an empty building. My friend's mom drove me home, and told me when I first got in the car that if she didn't like the neighborhood, she wasn't letting me out of the car. Well, the first few neighborhoods we drove through she thought were adorable. Then we started to enter mine. Not so cute, by her measurements. As we pulled up, she told me, "I don't like this neighborhood, Lilly." I sat in the back seat, half-grimacing, half-smiling to myself, thinking, "if you only knew that I grew up in a neighborhood like this...." I was almost home.
Our apartment is glamorous by my-first-apartment standards. We live on the third and top floor of a walk-up in Brooklyn, 20 minutes from NYU's campus on the L subway line. We have a fire-escape that leads to a rooftop with no railings (no drunken parties on the roof!) but a breathtaking, soothing view of the fabulous and sometimes frightening Manhattan. There is a California-style Mexican food joint on the corner, and a convenience store on the other corner that sells my 99 cent Mucho Mango Arizonas.
The neighborhood is mostly Puerto Rican, but Mexican enough that I can find Mexican products on almost every block. It is also getting super gentrified. While I LOVE the Mexican restaurant on the corner (they have chicken mole and horchata and sometimes Jamaica and speak my brand of Spanish!), they offer tofu and soy cheese and they're always packed with young white folks. Same deal with the delicious Thai restaurant around the corner. Walking back from the subway, I hope I don't look like another one of them who doesn't realize or care how much their/our presence is altering the community and neighborhood. I came home hella upset about it the other night, and Chris talked me through it and soothed my conscience a bit. He promised we'll find out if there's any sort of community board, and we'll go to meetings and be actively engaged in the community. Without trying to run it, of course.
So people have been coming to visit me in this new apartment of mine (that I would have cried if I had to move into by myself. Thanks, Dad!!). Last night, one of my closest friends came over to chill. He told me I've changed. I seem quieter, more pensive. I'm not super talkative like I used to be. I've been thinking on this all night, trying to figure out what has changed within or about me. Maybe it's 'cause I've ingested so much this summer--been filled with so much information, with so many new lenses for seeing the world. Maybe once I start my hectic lifestyle up again, I'll be highly caffeinated and unable to shut up. Or, perhaps it's just part of me growing up. Me learning that silence doesn't need to be filled with banter, that not all my thoughts need to be shared. Maybe it's me validating myself, in my head and in my heart, instead of seeking external validation.
Regardless, I do feel like something in me has shifted. I am growing. To where and to what I'm unsure, but development is under way and it feels at once scary and comforting, epic and insignificant, natural and unusual.
So here's to New York, to grounding myself, to staying in one place for a while, to reuniting with people I love and to finding new ones. To remaining self-aware, but shedding self-consciousness. To Brooklyn. To this new year, and whatever it may bring.
P.S. My new favorite song that I listen to at the break of each day: India.Arie: Beautiful Day. Please go listen! When I shared it with Jenna, she remarked that this is the philosophy that she and I hold about life. It really is.
Love and smiles and introspection,
L
Tuesday, August 25, 2009
Sunday, August 16, 2009
Odessa, Ukraine. Or, A note on bringing zen to the mountain
Wednedsday, August 12, 2009
Some background: The Kazakhstan chapter of the trip is over. I am sitting in my hostel in Kiev, the capital of Ukraine, where we have been for two days now. Before this we were in Odessa, a beach town on the Black Sea in Ukraine. When I say we, I'm referring to myself, Elise, and Lindsay. We all fell in love with Odessa from the moment we arrived. Well, maybe not the moment, but I'll comment on our busride in a minute :).
Odessa is beautiful, charming, full of people showed out, dressed up in their finest, strolling along the main streets, chilling in the beautiful parks, sunbathing on the dirty but nevertheless refreshing beaches. Open air restaurants line the streets and the whole city is breathing deeply, slowly, fully. The hostel we stayed at was run by two dudes, one from San Jose, California (I am always shocked by how I find Bay folks everywhere... today in the underground caves of the monestary in Kiev I ran into a guy wearing a Cal t-shirt), and one from Poland, whose wife and two-year-old also lived in the hostel. Part of the reason why I loved Odessa is how amazingly nice these two were to us.
A note on bringing zen to the mountain:
Yes, I believe it, because when everything went wrong on our busride (we got off the night train in Odessa and rode the bus an hour in the wrong direction), i just smiled, shrugged, and brought zen to the bus. I placed my fate and path in the hands of the world and determined to meet it all with an open heart. Being here, though, on the port of Odessa, makes me wonder. Because I definitely did not bring zen to the water. The Black Sea brought it, refrehed it, instilled it in and to me. Maybe it's because I already felt zen. But the water has always had this effect on me.
I do believe that places possess spirits, that locations have vibes and souls. Each being who comes to the place leaves a different mark on it, minisculey or massively altering its essence. Even those who mentally or emotionally--but never physically--cross its path alter it. Because the seeds of rumors or taints of opinion carried on the wind also touch a place.
Right now, I am touching Odessa and she is smiling on me.
Later that day:
I've realized that I adore vacation spots if the majority of vacationers are not American. That's why I loved Zihuatanejo so much, and I'm sure why I love it here. It feels comfortable here, but the lack of Americans also makes it a foreign experience. Almaty felt so far away from home, but this feels familiar, cozy in an eye-opening, sun-soaking way. I wonder, though, if I had been on the water in Kazakhstan, if I would've felt more at home. Water seems to do that for me.
Sometimes I write lists of topics in my journal as they pop into my head, thinking I'll come back to them and expand later. I almost never expand. At the end of Thursday in Odessa, my list stood as follows:
*Recommending Odessa to people
--Whiteness
*People-watching without eavesdropping because of the language barrier
*Our night out with people from the hostel
*and a longer entry on Israel and Judaism, which I'll post later.
love to all. I return home in 2 days! please write me emails! I have email access at this hostel :)
infinite x's and o's,
L
I do believe that places possess spirits, that locations have vibes and souls. Each being who comes to the place leaves a different mark on it, minisculey or massively altering its essence. Even those who mentally or emotionally--but never physically--cross its path alter it. Because the seeds of rumors or taints of opinion carried on the wind also touch a place.
Right now, I am touching Odessa and she is smiling on me.
Later that day:
I've realized that I adore vacation spots if the majority of vacationers are not American. That's why I loved Zihuatanejo so much, and I'm sure why I love it here. It feels comfortable here, but the lack of Americans also makes it a foreign experience. Almaty felt so far away from home, but this feels familiar, cozy in an eye-opening, sun-soaking way. I wonder, though, if I had been on the water in Kazakhstan, if I would've felt more at home. Water seems to do that for me.
Sometimes I write lists of topics in my journal as they pop into my head, thinking I'll come back to them and expand later. I almost never expand. At the end of Thursday in Odessa, my list stood as follows:
*Recommending Odessa to people
--Whiteness
*People-watching without eavesdropping because of the language barrier
*Our night out with people from the hostel
*and a longer entry on Israel and Judaism, which I'll post later.
love to all. I return home in 2 days! please write me emails! I have email access at this hostel :)
infinite x's and o's,
L
Thursday, August 6, 2009
Almaty, Kazakhstan
Greetings from Almaty!
Let me give you a visual of where we are: When we stepped off the airplane into fresh air (it was one of those planes where you walk down the stairs and a shuttle bus takes you to the actual airport), at 6 in the morning, after four days of travel, the first thing we saw was ice-capped mountains in the background. Almaty is the business hub of the country, and is surrounded by mountains. Gorgeous! The country is enormous, so we first flew to Kiev, Ukraine, spent a day there, and then took another six hour flight to Kazakhstan.
We're staying in the mountains, in a little camp. We're living in cabins, with two to three Americans and two to three Kazakhstanis in each one. Kazakhstanis is the term used to describe people born in Kazakhstan, but not originally from here. Kazakhs are the native people of this land, and they look Asian. Kazakhstanis usually look Eastern European (Russian, Ukrainian, etc.). The country, or at least Almaty, is a mix of each.
It is our second full day here, and Ive already been on a rollercoaster of relationship building. Of course I love our NY group, but it's the Kazakhstanis that are the most fun to get to know. I've built good friendships with some who speak slim to no English, and my Russian is non-existent. Still, when you clean an old woman's windows and floors for four hours with someone, you learn how to communicate and bond without words.
Last night, we went up to an amusement park on Kok Tobe, a beautiful, big mountain above Almaty. We rode rollercoasters that you control the speed of yourself and found a statue monument to the Beatles. Lindsay asked me at one point what I was thinking, since I looked deep in thought. I told her this:
The relationships we are building now are despite our language barriers. The problem is that this time, we are definitely not going to be able to keep in touch easily. Sure, we can be facebook friends, but all I can leave on their walls is a smiley face. We don't speak the same language, so we can't write each other messages. We can use online translation sites, but ultimately our friendships exists within the boundaries of this trip.
So, rather than being sad, I have decided this means that every moment must be my favorite moment, every second has to be the best. I am living in the moment, for the moment, with the understanding that this trip is amazing, these relationships solid. Time is always a factor, but it can be my friend if I let it. This week, I am one hundred percent living in Almaty.
I miss and love you all! Hugs and kisses from K-Stan!
Let me give you a visual of where we are: When we stepped off the airplane into fresh air (it was one of those planes where you walk down the stairs and a shuttle bus takes you to the actual airport), at 6 in the morning, after four days of travel, the first thing we saw was ice-capped mountains in the background. Almaty is the business hub of the country, and is surrounded by mountains. Gorgeous! The country is enormous, so we first flew to Kiev, Ukraine, spent a day there, and then took another six hour flight to Kazakhstan.
We're staying in the mountains, in a little camp. We're living in cabins, with two to three Americans and two to three Kazakhstanis in each one. Kazakhstanis is the term used to describe people born in Kazakhstan, but not originally from here. Kazakhs are the native people of this land, and they look Asian. Kazakhstanis usually look Eastern European (Russian, Ukrainian, etc.). The country, or at least Almaty, is a mix of each.
It is our second full day here, and Ive already been on a rollercoaster of relationship building. Of course I love our NY group, but it's the Kazakhstanis that are the most fun to get to know. I've built good friendships with some who speak slim to no English, and my Russian is non-existent. Still, when you clean an old woman's windows and floors for four hours with someone, you learn how to communicate and bond without words.
Last night, we went up to an amusement park on Kok Tobe, a beautiful, big mountain above Almaty. We rode rollercoasters that you control the speed of yourself and found a statue monument to the Beatles. Lindsay asked me at one point what I was thinking, since I looked deep in thought. I told her this:
The relationships we are building now are despite our language barriers. The problem is that this time, we are definitely not going to be able to keep in touch easily. Sure, we can be facebook friends, but all I can leave on their walls is a smiley face. We don't speak the same language, so we can't write each other messages. We can use online translation sites, but ultimately our friendships exists within the boundaries of this trip.
So, rather than being sad, I have decided this means that every moment must be my favorite moment, every second has to be the best. I am living in the moment, for the moment, with the understanding that this trip is amazing, these relationships solid. Time is always a factor, but it can be my friend if I let it. This week, I am one hundred percent living in Almaty.
I miss and love you all! Hugs and kisses from K-Stan!
Saturday, July 25, 2009
Always a Bay baby
I am currently sitting in my grandparents' house in Los Angeles. Tasha's by my side reading some Capote. My whole being is full with California sunshine.
Two weeks ago I returned home to sun and Savannah and my family and Touch the Earth camp as usual. To my dad's super strong cups of black coffee every morning, to drives to Davis for Leelye, to book shopping with Stella, to driving with windows down and music blasting. Also to an ailing Oakland, to teen deaths three blocks from my house (friends of friends), to more budget cuts than ever, to burning trees and an instable city job. The Bay air feels glorious on my skin, but also too stagnant. My mind is itching to return to New York, to resume my world roaming, but it never fails to amaze me how quickly my heart resettles. Despite my new roots on fresh coasts, I am and will always be a Bay baby. Right now, I am home.
Two weeks ago I returned home to sun and Savannah and my family and Touch the Earth camp as usual. To my dad's super strong cups of black coffee every morning, to drives to Davis for Leelye, to book shopping with Stella, to driving with windows down and music blasting. Also to an ailing Oakland, to teen deaths three blocks from my house (friends of friends), to more budget cuts than ever, to burning trees and an instable city job. The Bay air feels glorious on my skin, but also too stagnant. My mind is itching to return to New York, to resume my world roaming, but it never fails to amaze me how quickly my heart resettles. Despite my new roots on fresh coasts, I am and will always be a Bay baby. Right now, I am home.
Thursday, July 2, 2009
On home and wanderlust
I am heartsick because there are people at home who I feel I need to be with right now. It is so so hard to know that people are going through it and I am not able to be there. I feel so helpless. I know that love transcends large bodies of water and national borders, but is my faith in these relationships and my feelings for these people enough? My absence will be clear in their memories of these hardships. And in mine.
Two days before I left New York for HIA, I met up with my good friend to say goodbye for the summer.
"You don't know how to stay in one place," he told me as he hugged me.
"I guess you're right," I replied, thinking about the constant motion I live in.
I've gotten this before, from multiple people. Jenna tells me I spin too fast in my life. Jason thinks I don't know how to stay in one place. Zina thinks I may never learn how to truly slow myself down and resync to the pace of Town life.
As if this comment wasn't enough to send me spiraling through thoughts of home and love and lack, he followed up immediately with a question I didn't anticipate.
"What are you looking for?"
I stared at him for a while, wondering if he realized that his question was too intense for the sidewalk outside my NYU office job, too involved for the five minute coffee break I had before returning to FileMakerPro.
My response came quickly and naturally, and the conversation hasn't left me since.
"I don't know. I just know that I haven't found it yet."
As I travel from Teaneck to Berlin, from Oakland to Kazakhstan, as I settle in to my new nest in Brooklyn with Ashley and Chris, the world will keep running, I will keep looking, and maybe, maybe one day, I will find it--whatever it is-- and be able to slow down. 'Til then, I am content to continue wanderlusting, traveling, soaking up all the world has to offer me... and, very necessarily, periodically returning to Oakland and to the souls that make it my home.
Two days before I left New York for HIA, I met up with my good friend to say goodbye for the summer.
"You don't know how to stay in one place," he told me as he hugged me.
"I guess you're right," I replied, thinking about the constant motion I live in.
I've gotten this before, from multiple people. Jenna tells me I spin too fast in my life. Jason thinks I don't know how to stay in one place. Zina thinks I may never learn how to truly slow myself down and resync to the pace of Town life.
As if this comment wasn't enough to send me spiraling through thoughts of home and love and lack, he followed up immediately with a question I didn't anticipate.
"What are you looking for?"
I stared at him for a while, wondering if he realized that his question was too intense for the sidewalk outside my NYU office job, too involved for the five minute coffee break I had before returning to FileMakerPro.
My response came quickly and naturally, and the conversation hasn't left me since.
"I don't know. I just know that I haven't found it yet."
As I travel from Teaneck to Berlin, from Oakland to Kazakhstan, as I settle in to my new nest in Brooklyn with Ashley and Chris, the world will keep running, I will keep looking, and maybe, maybe one day, I will find it--whatever it is-- and be able to slow down. 'Til then, I am content to continue wanderlusting, traveling, soaking up all the world has to offer me... and, very necessarily, periodically returning to Oakland and to the souls that make it my home.
Monday, June 29, 2009
Blind Dinner, Christopher St. Day Parade, and R.I.P. Michael Jackson
So much has happened since my last (and only) Berlin post.
First: Michael Jackson died this week. What a travesty. The entire American team was so upset, and the Germans didn't understand until we explained that Michael Jackson is for America sort of like the Beatles were for the UK. Then they got it. The day after he passed away, we went to a German house party, stole a room and all the Americans (plus one German and one Bosnian) played hella MJ songs and danced the night away.
Now, to the other stuff :)
I'm feeling Berlin a lot. I've been through some ups and downs here, mostly because the program is not what I expected it to be. I've adapted, though. I think I was expecting to be more emotionally challenged, and instead I've been learning tons of information and having to reconsider the way that I approach situations and theories, since in Germany the approaches are often totally different.
Yesterday I went to a speech by Thomas Laqueur, who is a very well-known American historian and probably gonna be the next American Historical Society president. His latest book was "Solitary Sex: A cultural history of masturbation." His entire talk was in German, though, so I couldn't understand a word. Lizzie and I went, and counted the number of times the words "taboo," "orgasmus," and "masturbasion" were said, as well as the number of jokes made in German (he was on a roll!), and the technical difficulties. Good times. Then we went on a tour of the Reichstag, the main parliament building.
A few nights ago, our entire group (minus Casey, who went MIA for the weekend) went out to eat at this restaurant called "Dunkel." The restaurant servers are all blind, and the entire dining room is pitch black, so you literally can not see a thing. We broke up into groups of six to eat, and I was sitting with Jelena (who's from Bosnia), Frithjov and Julie (German fellows), Anton (one of our German staff), and Eleanor (one of the American fellow's friends, who was visiting). Eleanor joined us after we had already been seated, and none of us had met her before, so I went through this experience of getting to know someone by her voice in the complete darkness, which was really cool. When we got out into the light and I saw her, she looked nothing like what I had imagined. We all made a mess at dinner, but I successfully transferred my dessert bananas to Frithjov without spilling, and none of us ended up with stains on our clothes, so we were quite proud :).
Saturday was the Transgenial/Alternative Christopher Street Day Celebration in Berlin (basically Berlin's Gay Pride). The Transgenial Parade was created as a response to the more mainstream parade, which many people feel has gotten too capitalistic and has lost all of its political messages. The mainstream one is full of corporate sponsors and is not super inclusive of lesbians, transgender folks, gender queer folks, etc. (At least this is the message I've been getting.) I know a fair amount more about this issue now because we finally picked research topics about a week ago, and Leon (a German guy in our program who is from Colon, Germany, but goes to school in Amsterdam) and I are working on the use of the "LGBT" label on the organizational landscape in Berlin. The parade was really cool, and full of colors and signs and glitter, and made me miss Pride in San Francisco. It's also really cool to talk to people who are actively working agianst the idea that there is one normative way to be "gay." Leon and I spent time there, met up with some of the people we've been interviewing, people-watched, danced, and ate some deliciously cheap pizza, before heading to Treptower Park for a late-night picnic party with the other fellows.
Fashion in Berlin is really fun. It's pretty laid back for the most part, and everyone wears whatever they want, so everyone looks kinda funky and unique. Sometimes it just looks sloppy, but I never, ever feel like I'm being judged based on my clothing, which is so so different from New York City. Love it!!!
I've rediscovered my passion for reading novels here, but at the expense of my journal writing. I found a bookstore by Friedrichstrase that has a floor devoted to foreign language books. They have a pretty extensive English section, so I bought Girls of Riyadh, which is like a Saudi Arabian Gossip Girl and is FABULOUS (I'm almost done with it. I highly recommend it!!), and Into the Wild. Reading has now become my favorite pasttime on the S-Bahn or U-Bahn, since I typically have a 45 minute trainride into the Berlin center. This means, though, that I haven't been writing as much, which is sad. It also happens a lot in my life that I go on mental overload and can't seem to pen down my thoughts when I'm busy diving into my book/another world. I'm trying to strike a balance. I'm also having a dilemma with picture-taking. Of course I want to preserve my memories here and capture the gorgeous grafitti and museums and whatnot, but I also can't help feeling that snapping pictures from behind a camera all the time prevents me from experiencing what's in front of me. I have neglected my picture-taking duties a lot, 'cause the more time I spend here, the less I want to be a visible tourist. Silly, I know, but the important thing is that I'm enjoying my time here, which I definitely am.
I'm sitting in a Cafe right now that Leon took me to, called St. Oberholz. It is two stories and has tons of open space and millions (I know, Dad, I'm exagerating, my guess is they have maybe 3o) of windows, funky shaped lights and great music playing. Not to mention good coffee, sandwiches, and soups. This is one of the only places in Berlin where I've found free wireless and iced coffee that is actually coffee on ice-- the normal German "iced coffee" is coffee with vanilla icecream in it. A happy surprise, but not what I want usually! I told a lot of the other fellows about it, and so today 8 out of 21 of us showed up here for some paper-writing fun. We are currently in our "research-writing" period, so we're all split up into teams trying to crank out these masterpieces of sociological research that we only had two weeks to slap together. It's cool, though, 'cause we've all got super interesting topics.
To sum it up, I am currently: Listening to Michael Jackson on repeat and getting so juiced to come home to the Bay, typing a ton about LGBT and Queer Identities in Berlin, sippin' iced coffee and playing with my new beaded ring that I bought, fighting off my allergies that are buggin' out since the sun has emerged, and love love loving my new friends here.
Love and positive vibrations (Leon's expectation for the program was "positive vibrations," a hope that he shared with us the first day in Berlin. We are in hippie heaven writing this paper together) coming to you express from this Berlingirl,
Lilly
First: Michael Jackson died this week. What a travesty. The entire American team was so upset, and the Germans didn't understand until we explained that Michael Jackson is for America sort of like the Beatles were for the UK. Then they got it. The day after he passed away, we went to a German house party, stole a room and all the Americans (plus one German and one Bosnian) played hella MJ songs and danced the night away.
Now, to the other stuff :)
I'm feeling Berlin a lot. I've been through some ups and downs here, mostly because the program is not what I expected it to be. I've adapted, though. I think I was expecting to be more emotionally challenged, and instead I've been learning tons of information and having to reconsider the way that I approach situations and theories, since in Germany the approaches are often totally different.
Yesterday I went to a speech by Thomas Laqueur, who is a very well-known American historian and probably gonna be the next American Historical Society president. His latest book was "Solitary Sex: A cultural history of masturbation." His entire talk was in German, though, so I couldn't understand a word. Lizzie and I went, and counted the number of times the words "taboo," "orgasmus," and "masturbasion" were said, as well as the number of jokes made in German (he was on a roll!), and the technical difficulties. Good times. Then we went on a tour of the Reichstag, the main parliament building.
A few nights ago, our entire group (minus Casey, who went MIA for the weekend) went out to eat at this restaurant called "Dunkel." The restaurant servers are all blind, and the entire dining room is pitch black, so you literally can not see a thing. We broke up into groups of six to eat, and I was sitting with Jelena (who's from Bosnia), Frithjov and Julie (German fellows), Anton (one of our German staff), and Eleanor (one of the American fellow's friends, who was visiting). Eleanor joined us after we had already been seated, and none of us had met her before, so I went through this experience of getting to know someone by her voice in the complete darkness, which was really cool. When we got out into the light and I saw her, she looked nothing like what I had imagined. We all made a mess at dinner, but I successfully transferred my dessert bananas to Frithjov without spilling, and none of us ended up with stains on our clothes, so we were quite proud :).
Saturday was the Transgenial/Alternative Christopher Street Day Celebration in Berlin (basically Berlin's Gay Pride). The Transgenial Parade was created as a response to the more mainstream parade, which many people feel has gotten too capitalistic and has lost all of its political messages. The mainstream one is full of corporate sponsors and is not super inclusive of lesbians, transgender folks, gender queer folks, etc. (At least this is the message I've been getting.) I know a fair amount more about this issue now because we finally picked research topics about a week ago, and Leon (a German guy in our program who is from Colon, Germany, but goes to school in Amsterdam) and I are working on the use of the "LGBT" label on the organizational landscape in Berlin. The parade was really cool, and full of colors and signs and glitter, and made me miss Pride in San Francisco. It's also really cool to talk to people who are actively working agianst the idea that there is one normative way to be "gay." Leon and I spent time there, met up with some of the people we've been interviewing, people-watched, danced, and ate some deliciously cheap pizza, before heading to Treptower Park for a late-night picnic party with the other fellows.
Fashion in Berlin is really fun. It's pretty laid back for the most part, and everyone wears whatever they want, so everyone looks kinda funky and unique. Sometimes it just looks sloppy, but I never, ever feel like I'm being judged based on my clothing, which is so so different from New York City. Love it!!!
I've rediscovered my passion for reading novels here, but at the expense of my journal writing. I found a bookstore by Friedrichstrase that has a floor devoted to foreign language books. They have a pretty extensive English section, so I bought Girls of Riyadh, which is like a Saudi Arabian Gossip Girl and is FABULOUS (I'm almost done with it. I highly recommend it!!), and Into the Wild. Reading has now become my favorite pasttime on the S-Bahn or U-Bahn, since I typically have a 45 minute trainride into the Berlin center. This means, though, that I haven't been writing as much, which is sad. It also happens a lot in my life that I go on mental overload and can't seem to pen down my thoughts when I'm busy diving into my book/another world. I'm trying to strike a balance. I'm also having a dilemma with picture-taking. Of course I want to preserve my memories here and capture the gorgeous grafitti and museums and whatnot, but I also can't help feeling that snapping pictures from behind a camera all the time prevents me from experiencing what's in front of me. I have neglected my picture-taking duties a lot, 'cause the more time I spend here, the less I want to be a visible tourist. Silly, I know, but the important thing is that I'm enjoying my time here, which I definitely am.
I'm sitting in a Cafe right now that Leon took me to, called St. Oberholz. It is two stories and has tons of open space and millions (I know, Dad, I'm exagerating, my guess is they have maybe 3o) of windows, funky shaped lights and great music playing. Not to mention good coffee, sandwiches, and soups. This is one of the only places in Berlin where I've found free wireless and iced coffee that is actually coffee on ice-- the normal German "iced coffee" is coffee with vanilla icecream in it. A happy surprise, but not what I want usually! I told a lot of the other fellows about it, and so today 8 out of 21 of us showed up here for some paper-writing fun. We are currently in our "research-writing" period, so we're all split up into teams trying to crank out these masterpieces of sociological research that we only had two weeks to slap together. It's cool, though, 'cause we've all got super interesting topics.
To sum it up, I am currently: Listening to Michael Jackson on repeat and getting so juiced to come home to the Bay, typing a ton about LGBT and Queer Identities in Berlin, sippin' iced coffee and playing with my new beaded ring that I bought, fighting off my allergies that are buggin' out since the sun has emerged, and love love loving my new friends here.
Love and positive vibrations (Leon's expectation for the program was "positive vibrations," a hope that he shared with us the first day in Berlin. We are in hippie heaven writing this paper together) coming to you express from this Berlingirl,
Lilly
Thursday, June 11, 2009
And it, and it begins
I am infatuated with and fascinated by Berlin. But perhaps I should start with Paris. Most of the group of American fellows from HIA (there are 54 American fellows, I believe) met up and spent the night at a hostel on the Upper West Side in NYC on June 3rd. June 4th we flew to Paris.
We stayed in a hotel in Aubervilles, a suburb of Paris. The Parisian suburbs are typically considered the "ghettos," or the less affluent areas. I was so excited and relieved to finally find a program that understands the value of staying somewhere other than the tourist traps, and I maintain that stance, even though a young woman I really like got her purse stolen as she got off the bus to return to the hotel. My roommate in Paris was born in Sri Lanka but moved to Amsterdam when she was 4. She is part of the Netherlands program, so I won't be seeing her again 'til June 5th, when all the country programs (the Netherlands, Denmark, France, Germany, Poland) return to Paris for the closing ceremony. I love meeting new people, but it's always a little rough for me when I get thrown together with folks for a couple of days, bond a lot, develop the beginnings of great friendships, and then realize that the future of our relationship is probably going to be diminished to a now-and-then facebook exchange. It seems like part of the focus of this trip is how to sustain transnational networking, so hopefully my fears won't be realized.
In Paris, we spent a lot of time focusing on the politics of memorialization and commemoration. The theme has carried over to the first part of the Berlin program. We have been focusing on how different themes and occurances in Berlin/German history are commemorated and memorialized. It fits that we began with the post-Holocaust German identity. From visiting a former concentration/labor camp to visiting the Memorial to the Murdered Jews of Europe to visiting the Memorial Site for the Persecuted Homosexual Victims of National Socialism to meeting with a Holocaust Survivor to discussing how Holocaust education is and should be taught, both to "ethnically German" students and to students of "migrational backgrounds," it has been a whirlwind of a learning experience already. And that was a whirlwind of a run-on sentence, sorry people :)!
The best part of my experience thus far has been stumbling across the everyday differences between German culture and American culture. For example, in Germany, it is taboo to use the term "race" today. "Race" here implies a discourse on breeds and is underst00d as a dehumanizing term. It makes total sense that they would be so wary of the word, considering the history of the eugenics movement and the genocide linked to "racial purity" here, but my identity and my entire life is so based on the understanding that racial identity/ies and race dynamics are an inextricable part of American life. I have been raised with an understanding that discussing race is crucial to positively contributing to and participating in society. Instead of using the term "race," Germans say "ethnicity." This gets complicated, because Aryan people are referred to as "ethnically German," while everyone who is visibly "non-ethnically German" is labeled as someone "with/of a migration background."
Another word that they don't use is "leader," because Hitler was referred to as the "fuhrer," or "the leader." We have to do research projects in the last two weeks of the fellowship--we get to pick our own topics--and I'm seriously contemplating doing mine on taboo words in German culture. I'm really interested in studying how leadership development programs are limited or altered by the lack of mobility with vocabulary. How do you train someone to lead when you can not use the term "leader"? How does that impact young people's perceptions of what it means to be civically engaged?
On another note, Berlin is poppin' in terms of art. There is street art/graffiti EVERYWHERE, and I love it! The whole city has a really good vibe. Sometimes I get a little creeped out thinking about what went down on this land not many years ago, but I try to keep my head in the present. Part of what is so intense about HIA is our talks about how genocide could potentially happen anywhere, anytime. I wouldn't put it past the U.S. to be home to such an atrocity sometime in the not-so-distant future. CONSTANT VIGILANCE (any Harry Potter fans reading this?).
The train system is beautiful and so so easy to use. I'm staying in the Berlin suburbs, in Southern Berlin, in a gorgeous house with a host mother whom I adore. It's a 20 minute walk from her house to the S-Bahn (train) station. I got lost the first night trying to get home from the station, but since then I've become good friends with my walking route. We've been out a few times with the German fellows, the Americans, the Bosnians, and all of the Senior fellows who happen to be in Berlin. They really like hanging out with us, and I can tell already that I'm locked in to an amazing network of people working to change the world. Last night we all went out to a beer garten and then to a club. It was 'Balkan Beats' night, which apparently is the new hot thing in Berlin.
I had Doner Kebab, a Turkish-German lamb sandwich that's kinda like shwarma and that is so so cheap and available everywhere. That is one thing that keeps surprising me: the food in Berlin is sooo cheap! We had Moroccan food last night for 4 euros per person, and Indian food one of the first nights for about 7 euro per person. And you're not really expected to tip much here. It's beautiful. Apparently housing is ultra cheap, too. Sadly, my guess is that as Berlin gets more and more popular, this will change. Berlin has already shifted to popularity in Europe; apparently it's the hot-spot destination for most young Europeans.
I wish I had more profound reflections to share, but at the moment I am still digesting all that I've experienced thus far. When I've sat with it a bit longer, I'll share some more personal notes. For now, I hope this was a good run-down of my happenings.
Paz y amor,
L
The best part of my experience thus far has been stumbling across the everyday differences between German culture and American culture. For example, in Germany, it is taboo to use the term "race" today. "Race" here implies a discourse on breeds and is underst00d as a dehumanizing term. It makes total sense that they would be so wary of the word, considering the history of the eugenics movement and the genocide linked to "racial purity" here, but my identity and my entire life is so based on the understanding that racial identity/ies and race dynamics are an inextricable part of American life. I have been raised with an understanding that discussing race is crucial to positively contributing to and participating in society. Instead of using the term "race," Germans say "ethnicity." This gets complicated, because Aryan people are referred to as "ethnically German," while everyone who is visibly "non-ethnically German" is labeled as someone "with/of a migration background."
Another word that they don't use is "leader," because Hitler was referred to as the "fuhrer," or "the leader." We have to do research projects in the last two weeks of the fellowship--we get to pick our own topics--and I'm seriously contemplating doing mine on taboo words in German culture. I'm really interested in studying how leadership development programs are limited or altered by the lack of mobility with vocabulary. How do you train someone to lead when you can not use the term "leader"? How does that impact young people's perceptions of what it means to be civically engaged?
On another note, Berlin is poppin' in terms of art. There is street art/graffiti EVERYWHERE, and I love it! The whole city has a really good vibe. Sometimes I get a little creeped out thinking about what went down on this land not many years ago, but I try to keep my head in the present. Part of what is so intense about HIA is our talks about how genocide could potentially happen anywhere, anytime. I wouldn't put it past the U.S. to be home to such an atrocity sometime in the not-so-distant future. CONSTANT VIGILANCE (any Harry Potter fans reading this?).
The train system is beautiful and so so easy to use. I'm staying in the Berlin suburbs, in Southern Berlin, in a gorgeous house with a host mother whom I adore. It's a 20 minute walk from her house to the S-Bahn (train) station. I got lost the first night trying to get home from the station, but since then I've become good friends with my walking route. We've been out a few times with the German fellows, the Americans, the Bosnians, and all of the Senior fellows who happen to be in Berlin. They really like hanging out with us, and I can tell already that I'm locked in to an amazing network of people working to change the world. Last night we all went out to a beer garten and then to a club. It was 'Balkan Beats' night, which apparently is the new hot thing in Berlin.
I had Doner Kebab, a Turkish-German lamb sandwich that's kinda like shwarma and that is so so cheap and available everywhere. That is one thing that keeps surprising me: the food in Berlin is sooo cheap! We had Moroccan food last night for 4 euros per person, and Indian food one of the first nights for about 7 euro per person. And you're not really expected to tip much here. It's beautiful. Apparently housing is ultra cheap, too. Sadly, my guess is that as Berlin gets more and more popular, this will change. Berlin has already shifted to popularity in Europe; apparently it's the hot-spot destination for most young Europeans.
I wish I had more profound reflections to share, but at the moment I am still digesting all that I've experienced thus far. When I've sat with it a bit longer, I'll share some more personal notes. For now, I hope this was a good run-down of my happenings.
Paz y amor,
L
Sunday, May 31, 2009
Berlin-bound
Hi gorgeous folks,
My blog, peoplearepeoplearepeople, is back up and running. The last time I posted was last summer, right after my trip to Israel and Palestine. This time, I am Berlin-bound.
As many of you know, I am currently living in Teaneck, New Jersey, with my friend Jenna, and commuting into NYC to work. I leave in three days for Berlin, Germany, where I will be spending 5 weeks doing various human rights studies with the program Humanity in Action (if you wanna read up on it, check out www.humanityinaction.org). Then I return home to Oakland, California for 3 weeks, and then am headed to Kazakhstan and the Ukraine, where I will be staying with a Jewish community and learning about Jewish life in post-Soviet, post-communist Kazakhstan.
I will be posting as much as possible throughout the next five weeks and the summer. Please feel free to stop by the site (peoplearepeoplearepeople.blogspot.com) and check up on me :).
Much love and peace, and I can't wait 'til I am Bay-bound!
XoXo,
Lilly
P.S. My email address is lilly.padia@gmail.com. If you email me, I will most def respond as soon as I can!
My blog, peoplearepeoplearepeople, is back up and running. The last time I posted was last summer, right after my trip to Israel and Palestine. This time, I am Berlin-bound.
As many of you know, I am currently living in Teaneck, New Jersey, with my friend Jenna, and commuting into NYC to work. I leave in three days for Berlin, Germany, where I will be spending 5 weeks doing various human rights studies with the program Humanity in Action (if you wanna read up on it, check out www.humanityinaction.org). Then I return home to Oakland, California for 3 weeks, and then am headed to Kazakhstan and the Ukraine, where I will be staying with a Jewish community and learning about Jewish life in post-Soviet, post-communist Kazakhstan.
I will be posting as much as possible throughout the next five weeks and the summer. Please feel free to stop by the site (peoplearepeoplearepeople.blogspot.com) and check up on me :).
Much love and peace, and I can't wait 'til I am Bay-bound!
XoXo,
Lilly
P.S. My email address is lilly.padia@gmail.com. If you email me, I will most def respond as soon as I can!
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)