Berlin...

...was amazing.

We went to Berlin for a weekend, which really was not enough. Some dislikes Berlin, Berlin is messy, dirty. But for some reason I think that is what attracted me the most. We had a crash 3hrs introduction of Berlin history during the walking tour on our first day. Was not a good idea, really. Snow, wind and walking are really not a good match. Nonetheless, it gave us a slightly better idea of how and why Berlin became to what it is today - pretty cool really.

I never knew that much about history. I mean, ask me the years of the World War 1 and I will give you a Google link. But as we were walking through central Berlin, I couldnt help but wonder what it is like for these people before 1989. That is the year the wall was decontructed, in case you are like me. Have you ever seen those movies, where they put scenes from the olden days on the left side and the present day on the right? At one point I felt like I was in one of those movies. We were walking, and I thought to myself who threaded along here before? Who were they? Why were they out? What were they thinking?

To anticipate your question, no I did not smoke anything then.

Another thing I really like about Berlin is that Berlin really has alot of faces. You turn from one alley to another and immediately get the sense of a whole different side of Berlin. And I am not just talking about the clear difference in architecture and feelings between the former east and west. Such a shame that we didnt get to explore the whole city I suppose.

Oh and the food. THAT GLORIOUS GLORIOUS FOOD. It scares me how I start drooling at the thought of those glorious wurst, bread, pretzels... Maybe I should get one of those baby-napkins that you put to prevent drool from damaging your shirt. Girls grew up wanting to live in a gingerbread house or a castle. Clearly they have low expectations. My wish is now to live in a German bakery. My sister told me I'll be a mouse. A HAPPY-BELLY MOUSE! MAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAUS!




And the nightlife. On our last night, we went to this underground club that played minimal electro music in one of its room. At one point they played Paul and Fritz Kalkbrenner's Sky and Sand. That was it. The lights was off. On. Off. On. I thought of nothing, breathed and blinked. On my right people did the same. On my left some guys started fighting and threw a table. That is a scene I will remember.







We also went to visit some museums: the Holocaust memorial and museum for the murdered Jews, the Jewish museum, and perhaps the most memorable one is the visit to the Stasi Gefangnis. It was the political prison in East Berlin, controlled by the state DDR. We arrived late so the guide had already started the tour. After awhile, I realized that he sometimes used personal pronouns such as "I" and "we". I was curious yet felt impolite to ask. His sentences were short, sometimes too short to fully comprehend.

"... They gave prisoners a bucket, in a cell for 4 people. It was hard for new prisoners. I felt shame."

"In my file it says 'long, vertical forehead', 'short fingers'."

Halfway through the tour he told us that he was arrested for being suspected of attempting to flee from the east to the west.

He put an emphasis on suspected. His sentences remained short, but his tone changed thereafter.

He told us that he couldnt bear living in a country where one cannot freely express what one thought or felt. As we were visiting the former interrogation rooms, he started telling us about these torture methods developed by the DDR. He said the physical torture was bad but the mental torture was even worse. A number of people officially worked for the Stasi, yet the unofficial number is overwhelming. A woman got arrested, and during her interrogation they served her favorite tea as a reminder. Her husband worked for the Stasi, she didnt know. I read some stories on this yet hearing this firsthand was way more intense. It felt real. How would it feel if you cant even trust your husband, your wife, your friends, your family?

Some officers secretly went in your flat when youre not there, rearrange the furniture now and then. They follow you, watch you, listen to you to the point of paranoia.

Who developed these methods, I asked. They are so well thought of.

The psychologists, he answered.


He then told us how he got into a rather heated discussion with an old man in the park last week. The old man thought the Stasi regime was way better than how it is now. Our guide disagreed. The old man retorted: "...well then they forgot to kill you!"

I had goosebumps when I heard this.

That reminded me of something a friend of mine told me before, that some people still consider Stalin to be a hero even if he killed more people than Hitler.

Some things I can never understand.

Yet some things I am glad to know, even when it's hard.

At the end of the tour, he smiled and waved his little fingers.

Just like how I waved my own little fingers to Berlin. Until then.

March reflection

Wow March.

After 30days of staring at the same picture, I am usually glad to be able to flip my calendar for a new picture! To trade in the two cartoon giraffes drinking lemonade to a seagull was absolutely cool! I mean, you lift up the calendar page and THERE IS THE SEAGULL FOR THIS MONTH!

Yet at the same time this little excitement is accompanied by a solemn astonishment.

March. Wow.

A friend of mine has to do a personal development report every 6 months for his organization: what have been learnt, what is good, what is bad, what is different, what should be changed, what how and why. Unfortunately my limited goldfish memory does not stretch that long, which is why I specifically intended to write somethings down today before it flew up like a helium bubble in a hot, breezy Summer afternoon.

Yes how I long for Summer and sun. Yesterday there was a storm here in Western Europe. The day I can ditch my jeans for shorts; cant decide to call it liberation or salvation.

On a more solemn mood. If I had to describe these first months of 2010, I'll say... Roller coaster. I think I'll call it so. A roller coaster ride, I like the resemblance. It's incredibly quick, scary, it goes from up to down to up to down at some remarkable speed, yet completely exhilirating. Remember those concise moments, when you are at the highest point and you know seconds later you will start diving down? Remember the feeling, the ticklish feeling in your stomach, the sensation of air being suspended for the briefest period? Next thing you know you're freefalling and in your head all you do is curse yourself WHY DID YOU GET ON THIS ROLLER COASTER YOU FREAKING DODO YOU HATE ROLLER COASTERS.

I do, I am scared of roller coasters and height.

Yet sometimes I am glad I took the ride, for that first 5 minutes when you are back on solid ground and all you want to do is kneel and kiss the ground. Complete gratitude, that's what I usually experience once my trembling jello feet leaves that seat of terror.

Which is what I am feeling at the moment.

I have to admit now that it hasnt always been easy. Life was hectic, to say the least. Juggling between teaching, writing, presenting, reading, studying and friends requires the skillfull art of a clown circus which I clearly did not possess. Not even close. But it has been a learning process, and looking back now I can say that a part of me is simply relieved it's done. Another part is ambivalent; life surely goes fast when you're running. A blur; an aching, demanding, rewarding motion of blur.

Teaching has been absolutely lovely. I am actually rather surprised how much I enjoyed teaching those little monsters. Regardless of waking up to teach at 9 in the morning twice a week, missing two of my own lectures, having to read and learn the course with them. I wanted to help them, perhaps thats why I took it slightly too seriously. I would read the chapter, my notes, going back and forth and asking myself how can I explain this clearly to my students. How can I motivate them to work, how can I make sure they feel comfortable asking questions during class, how to be strict at times yet being myself at other times.

I purposely did not tell my first year students that I was a second year student myself. I thought it added credibility. Yet at the end when they found out my real identity, I am utterly glad they did not become bitches. Maybe because they were bitches from the start. Yet I have to say I truly enjoyed teaching those bitches. They were my bitches.

During our last tutorial, they came up to me one by one and said: "Thank you, Denica." My heart melted like butter in the microwave when baking cakes. That weekend, I received emails from my students. At that moment, everything evaporated. All the burden, all the stressing and fussing and freaking vanished. All that is left was a solemn little smile. It was a nice feeling indeed, the feeling of being able to help and somewhat of use to someone.

Thank you, guys. You've been a good sport. Some moments are honestly funny it still cracks me up when I think about it.

Oh wait. The sun is shining today.

Wow.

Sometimes little things work out in wondrous yet strange ways. I guess there will always be storms, with wind so hard you thought you can surely never make it. Yet remembering that the sun will shine tomorrow might help you through. Slightly. I for once found it sometimes cumbersome, and cliche to think of things this way when I am downhill. I tend to get sucked into it, you see. But it's a learning process. And one day I wish for the ability to be able to see through the mist and straight to the rainbows.

Maybe when I am 20. Which is actually sooner rather than later. Wow. Now, that's scary.

Making it official

PEANUT BUTTER IS THE BOMB.

PAYDAY

A letter arrived today from the HR department of my university, I curiously ripped through the envelope to find that its main duty was to inform me that my first pay is now sitting comfortably on my bank account.

SAY WOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOT?!

My pay check is chilling in my bank account, MY FIRST EVER SALARY, WAGES, MONETARY COMPENSATION FOR EFFORT IS HERE!

Even better than Christmas, I'm telling you.

I treated myself to a shitload of food today to compensate the brain cells I killed during teaching. It feels nice, it feels really really nice to know that I'm paying with MY money. Like, M-Y M-O-N-E-Y, BABY!

Am seriously considering upon framing the letter on my wall. But that'd be too pathetic :p So I decided to store it in my special letter case as a token of remembrance. One day when I'm 50 and cant walk without a stick, I'll glance through it and will find a yellowing letter announcing my first paycheck. Not to mention harassing my grandchildren to be as proud as I am right now.

Snip snip

I went to the hairdresser today. Had a tight, demanding weeks which resulted in me contemplating upon booking a flight to Barbados. Not even knowing where Barbados is. Days have been short, weeks passed mercilessly. Running from classes to deadlines to meetings to preparations had its toll on me. Last Friday, I had to hand in a draft for a paper, which I started that morning. The ticking deadline was rough, the fact that I woke up at 7 in the morning to teach did not help in focusing my brain. At one point, I decided to give up on the deadline and told it to skrew itself. Called my TA, and was informed that the implication of my abdomination of my draft reaches beyond myself as my partner would have to assess that draft for our next assignment. Stared back at my empty word screen, wrote a bunch of smileys and nonsense, somehow praying that this is sufficient to make words form itself without me having to write them.

In case you were wondering, Internet, words can not form itself. I know, I was dissapointed too. I thought the introduction of computers would make our lives easier?

So I ended up having another goal in mind - to come up somehow with 1500 words paper on my topic. I did not even know what I typed, I just explained the Kantian view on morality and some about foreign aid, which is what my paper is about. At one point, I was typing without even knowing what I was saying. My eyes were fixated on the word count, heart cheering everytime the number crawls slowly closer to 1500.

15 minutes before the day ends, I received an email from a friend that resulted in me laughing at myself. At that point I realized something was wrong with me. Even more than usual, that is. I laughed while replying, at the same time freaking out because by then I only had 10MINUTES TO PRODUCE 200WORDS.

I submitted the draft at 12:00. No, not a minute more, not a minute less. PRECISELY, ACCURATELY, DEFINITELY AT 12:00! I thought it was really funny, like you know, the feeling you had when you just ducked a bullet.

At that moment I realized what was wrong with me: I was taking things too seriously. Far, far too seriously. It really scared me, how much responsibilities really took control of you. I have never been the one who is responsible, always the slacky retard who is laughing at nothing. A cold hard look at myself revealed that I have once again became a hamster.

A hamster in the sense of being stuck running on the wheel without stopping even for a second to see that THERE IS A FIRE OUTSIDE! Run! Run, hamster, RUN!!! (Previously, I was a hamster for snuggling in bed and eating and snuggling back in bed while munching a secret stack of snack).

A hamster. That's what I have become.

Thus I took the weekend off, finally took the time to go to the hairdresser (overdue by two weeks by now). It was surprisingly refreshing, my hairdresser was the one who profoundly believes in connections. She was jolly, and after our short session was proclaiming herself to be I AM YOUR NEW MOTHER!

Living is about sharing and connecting, she said. What good can you do when you just run here and there without emotions? What good can you bring when you do not take the time to smile and wave and notice the people around you? What good can you bring if you are a robot?

I told her that over the course of the weeks, I am a hamster-robot. A Ham-Bot.

She laughed hysterically and shaked my hair. That is why I am here, to cut your hair, Ham-Bot.

That was why she was there, to cut my hair. Or to cut my Ham-Bot circuits. For no Ham-Bot will I be.

TA-ship

Today was my first day teaching. Yes, my FIRST EVER JOB IN MY WHOLE LIFE! Jeej the excitement! I'm one of them now, those with responsibilities. Woohoo! Despite the excitement of the ilussion of adulhood, I was nervous as hell summing up to this morning. Will they listen to me? Will I be a complete retard? Will I make a fool out of myself? Will I be able to answer their questions? Will they like me?

This morning, on the tram ride to the university, my heart hopped like a bunny with a gun on its head. Jump or die, bunny. I was so nervous! Imagine 25 pairs of eyes fixating on you, focusing on every word you're saying, waiting for a flaw to attack. Eeks!

But it was surprisingly fun. After the first 15 minutes, the class started to loosen up. I started to loosen up. It feels strange to be on the other side of the class, to be the one giving instead of receiving. I feel an immediate responsibility for them, for what they take from the class. I slowly started to enjoy myself, to see how they respond to what I say, to try to make them have as much enjoyment as myself. True, it is only the first tutorial of the block and I have 2 months to go. But I just hope that it only gets better from here :)

PS. Am loving the perks that came with being a TA: office, staff email address, personalized computer settings, free coffee and tea, free copying. Totally worth the heart exercise.

The Vending Machine

My little brother has developed a new prank towards me: The Vending Machine. Starting last week, he has been sending me these Blackberry messages:

Hello.

It's me.

I am the vending machine.

Insert coin.

He repeats that everytime I ask him to tell Mom/Dad something. Insert coin. And he goes on and on about it. I would play along, writing cling to symbolize the sound of coin. Yet he refuses to acknowledge my coin. He would type back: Insert Indonesian coin please. Your coin is not valid. Insert another coin please. On, and on, and on until you want to bang his head against a vending machine, throw coins at him and walk away.

Until this day I do not know what he means when he says insert coin please. Sometimes he would borrow my father's Blackberry just to say hi to me.

Hey there. It's me. THE VENDING MACHINE.

For some strange reason now I crack up whenever he does it. Probably because he does it during the moments that I'm stressing about something. I would smile and thought of how lovely it is to be simple-minded siblings.