Ich bin ein(e) Berliner(in)

Despite my best-laid plans to spend my week in Berlin splayed out on its grassy splendors, basking in northern European sunshine, it rained pretty steadily at some point of every day that I was there, and was as chilly as any autumn I have experienced in recent memory. It took me a while to sort through my grayish photos (and the rather blurry ones, since I managed to drop my camera squarely on its lens on my second day there - ack) to find the few that I snapped during the few moments that the clouds parted and the sun came through. Still, I tried to not let the rain stop me. I discovered new markets, filled to bursting with fat white asparagus, sensuously blooming peonies, big turkey eggs, jewel-like berries, and breads baked with every grain possibly known to man.

I walked the streets of old neighborhoods whose streets I know as well as the back of my hand, and went poking around curiously in new ones, marveling at how that city manages to be so familiar and so foreign to me at the same time. In half of the city, it sometimes feels like I never left. In the other half, there's a whole new world waiting to be discovered, a whole new population of people whose concept of their city is so different than mine.

There was a picnic, a day trip to Potsdam and its Dutch quarter, a walk among the graves of Prussian army generals, endless cups of tea and chats with legs curled up beneath me, and a few late nights, too; so late that I saw the sun come up again, birds a-tweeting, streets deserted, a rather strange sensation in my stomach that I believe must have been remembrance of what it's like to be in high school, exhilarated and late and hurrying home before mom wakes up in the semi-darkness to notice what time it is and that you're still not back.

I didn't get my beloved Pflaumenkuchen - I'll need to go back in a few months for that - but I did manage a Zwetschgenknödel - a steamed dumpling filled with sweet-tart plums, rolled in sweetened breadcrumbs and dabbed lightly with vanilla sauce. This is more Austrian than Berliner, but I can't walk past a fruit dumpling without buckling, no matter where I am. And learning the recipe for rote Grütze was easier than expected - now I just have to figure out how to make fresh Damson plum juice and we are in business.

On my last day in Berlin, the sun came out with full force, bathing the city with light, casting a golden sheen over every last wildflower, green leaf, aging bicycle, pulsing fountain, cobblestoned street. I ran my errands, saw my people, hurried from appointment to appointment, until I couldn't manage even one more word of another conversation. I left the apartment and threw myself down on the soft grass at the little square where I spent so many afternoons in my childhood, my adolescence and my young adulthood, watching the fountain do its magic until it was turned off and the sun peeled itself away from my body and the grass grew cold beneath me.

Berlin is a funny place. Not splendid like Paris, not filled with obvious magic. But beautiful in its own way, jolie-laide, as the French would say. Stunning in parts and rather homely in others, but filled to bursting with little details that you could miss if you weren't paying attention. Much has been written about the layers of history in Berlin, and it's true, tracking all that stuff is enough to fuel a hundred visits. But I like finding other strange little things, too, like these two gummy candies in the shape of bats, lying quietly and neatly on Winterfeldstraße, super heroes in disguise.

Or the fact that the city's meridians, its pathways, sidewalks, and parks aren't carefully tended to and mowed, but rather left to grow and blossom wildly, so that little flowers - white and purple and pink - crop up all over the place and grasses wave gently in the wind of the passing vehicles. Fat roses droop over the sidewalks, clover pushes through the cracks, the city's air is heavy with the perfume of linden trees, each gust of wind bringing another wave towards you, scenting even the grittiest corners with sylvan grace.

One week wasn't enough; it never is. I know, I am a broken record on this subject, on this, and many others pertaining to living far away from home, feeling neither of one place or another, or rather, feeling of so many places at once, a heart twice, thrice divided. But I'm glad I saw Berlin in summer again, saw the long fingers of the sun after dinner, heard the church bells at sunset, sat out several rainstorms and a rainbow in a cozy cafe, saw friends in short sleeves, ate dripping strawberries en plein air. Sometimes you just have to hold on to what you have and count your lucky stars, even when it hurts.

More photos here.

Comments

[the catskill kiwi]

LOVE the photographs, never been, but its pretty much on the top of my travel list!

[maggie]

Your writing is so lovely...traveling to somewhere that once was home is always so good and so tough.
Welcome back to New York. I hope you have some time to stay still for awhile here...

[Victoria]

Am glad to hear from you and know you went and came back safely - even if you sound just the tiniest bit melancholy. Maybe summer will finally arrive, and the sun will stay out here longer than half a day.

[Erada]

Beautiful! I know what you mean. I experience similar emotions, have similar thoughts everytime I go back to Albania (my home). Heading there this summer. Can't wait.
Thanks for sharing this. It was comforting like a conversation with a good friend.

[LoveFeast Table]

Thanks for taking us there with you! What lovely writing & pictures!

[Honeybee]

I have said this before but I must say it again: you are a wonderful writer. I wish you would write a book so I could spend hours "with you".

[anya]

I second Honeybee. Luisa, your writing revives emotions deep hidden, or rather stubbornly denied. Would it be too sissy to confess I turned tearful after reading this post? Yes? No? I'm a girl after all, so that's allowed.

Thank you for inspiring us!

[Mélanie]

Your last paragraph almost brought tears in my eyes, because it reminds me how I too feel divided between different places...How great (and slightly painful) it is to go back, to walk in the same streets again...

[jonquil]

"love in the memorial",for me, sums up a wonderful city i would dearly love to inhale. you are lucky to have such a pull to a place. i moved so much as a child that home is where my books are at any given time.

[Upstairs Penny]

Loved your Berlin comments and photos. I was there for the first time in the fall of 2008, and loved the city. I've spent a lot of time in Germany over the years, but need to spend more time in Berlin.

[TonyM]

What a beautiful, nostalgic picture you paint. I have never visited Berlin but must do so some time soon - for the fruit dumplings if nothing else!

[Amanda B]

Every time I read your posts about going to Berlin, I start planning spontaneous trips, regardless of the fact that I have zero dollars. You write so beautifully it even makes me homesick!!

[john]

Luisa, thank you for the wonderful words and pictures! I haven't been back to Berlin since 1981, but you brought back very "special" memories of that trip for me, and Anya, I as well got teary eyed after experiencing this post, and yes, as a man, it's also allowed.

[Linnet]

Lovely post:) It was good seeing you there.

[Marguerite]

Lovely post about 'my city' and so beautifully written. Your old neighbourhood is my new one, we just moved here from kreuzberg and that particular fountain is one of the visuals I most love about it!

[BF]

amazing. welcome back, luisa.

[evy]

Always great to read your blog!

[la ninja]

Summer can be a bit tricky in Central Europe weather-wise (let alone winter.)
As I type, Amsterdam is grey, wet, humid and stuffy all at once plus I can see some rays of sun breaking through the clouds... Tomorrow it could be 30 degrees, one never knows, it keeps us on our toes if nothing else! :)

Lovely pics, I particularly like the jelly-bats!

[emiglia]

I've never been to Berlin--Germany is the only Western European country I've never been to--but I really want to go, and your pictures aren't making it any easier for me!

I'm sorry you didn't get good weather, but it looks like you had a fun time anyway.

[Lisa (dinner party)]

Lovely post as always, Luisa. Your writing about home (all of them!) always slays me. I don't know anyone who captures the bittersweet feeling of longing for a place as well as you do.

[unconfidentialcook.com]

Berlin has never been on top of my list, but I sure could go for one of those fruit dumplings.

[Mark]

I visited Berlin for the first time last May. It was a truly invigorating experience and the food was to die for. I could wander the streets for weeks and be happy. You are right, the dumplings are more Austrian than Berliner but they are even tasty in America. Love your sight.

[Sirena]

The sun peeled itself away from your body? Jeez, Luisa. Just when I think your writing can't get more evocative, you outdo yourself. I love the images you create! And I love those silly, funny little bat gummies too. Welcome back! For selfish reasons I'm glad you are, so we can keep reading you :-)

[Almost Slowfood]

That fruit-filled dumpling looks amazing. I'd love to find a recipe for that!

[http://greentahina.blogspot.com/]

fun in the sun all day long.......

[Erin]

As a rolling stone person, this post definitely resonated with me. It's a strange thing to be both at home and homesick, all in one. Thanks for such eloquent writing on the feeling!

[Annie]

Oh how I wish I could go to Europe. Your pictures are fantastic, and as always, I adore your writing.

[Luisa]

Thanks, all, for your lovely comments! It's so nice to come home to you. :)

[Sylee]

I sat by that fountain for a long afternoon a couple of summers ago hashing through all of life's questions with a dear friend. This post, with the questions it raises of home, made me tingly. A pleasure to read you on Berlin; I can't wait until you're back.

[Martha]

I've just found your blog, so please excuse me for only now commenting on this post. Over the last few years since I moved to Estonia, I have had the chance to visit Berlin several times. It's a city I love and your post brought back so many treasured memories. I am looking forward to reading your posts regularly.

[Doris]

I grew up in Nuernberg, and each time I go home, it is a rebirth, a trip down memory lane and at the same I feel at home, yet a stranger; competing with the old is so much new. Surprisingly it all works out well. Zwetschgen Kuchen, Curry Wurst, Gyro's, Eisbein etc are a must.