The last stand.

Pergamon Altar. The shrine is surrounded by a frieze of the Gods battling giants.


For the sake of my readership, I was a little more active today. Though I felt a veil of malaise over me.

Even Philipp noted this evening, 'I can see that you are here, but you have one foot already in New York.' I cannot deny it. The last few nights, I have been unable to fall asleep, visions of the city, a new apartment, a new job, a new life than that of a wandering traveler keep running through my head.

Taking this trip was the best thing I have ever done in my life. No matter what happens I will never regret it. And something I learned on this trip is that it all works out in the end. Sure, you can get lost, you cannot understand what anyone is saying, there can be train strikes, you can spend all day looking for contact solution, you can lose an adapter, but despite these obstacles, there is no need to worry. You will get there all right. And that is how I am trying to think about my return home. Sometimes I start to panic, but then I remember that and it makes me calm down.

The malaise is of sadness that it is all coming to an end. And while I am excited to come home, there is an apprehension. Through this trip I have learned so much about myself and feel stronger and more confident than ever. I have a new perspective on life that I never had before. Will this feeling continue when I go back to the real world, or will I get sucked back into my old New York lifestyle of all work and no play? This trip made me remember how much I enjoy the company of family and friends, eating good food, seeing art that inspires me, learning new things, writing for writing's sake and also a new passion: taking photographs. Will I remember about them when I come home? Will I have this same sense of self-worth and determination to do what I want? I cannot answer that question. I do not know what will happen. But that is what I think about at night.

But I am trying to live in the moment. I only have a few more days left, and so I went to see the Berlin once more. First starting at the Pergamon Museum, which was filled with one of a kind classical Greek, Roman, Islamic and Middle Eastern art and architecture. While these types of things are not my passion, both my hosts and the Lonely Planet guide said it was a must see, and I can appreciate why. The artifacts were pretty amazing. Then I moved on to something that was more capitivating to me: The KaDeWe department store, which is 8 floors of shopping. It reminded me a little of Bloomingdale's, but it also had a spectacular gourmet food floor, filled with chefs cooking up all sorts of things that smelled heavenly and food products from all over the world. The most spectacular section for me was the seafood aisle, where they had so many fishes, big and small, all different colors and varieties. I am unsure who buys all this fish, but they were certainly a feast for the eyes!

I passed by a display of American products like Swiss Miss Hot Chocolate and Smucker's Jam and wondered why these products were doing in a fancy place like this. Then it occurred to me: they probably do not sell these products here in Germany so it is special over here.


Eat me!


American specialties.

The rest of the day was 'typical Berlin,' first starting in a coffee shop, a place where it seems like everyone in this city spends half the day. (Besides Vienna, I have never seen so many coffeeshops!) Then I met up with Philipp when he came home from work, and he took me a pub where we stood at the bar and had dinner and beer. The beer is served in small, thin glasses and the bartender keeps refilling them without you asking until you put a coaster on top of your glass. We both ate a plate of meatballs, fried potatoes, a pickle and sourkraut.

The place was filled with people young and old, including lots of government types, and it had a nice rowdy atmosphere. The man standing next to us talked to Philipp some, (Philipp says that is quite common to have friendly conversation with your neighbors in a place like this) and then we listened to a friendly but heated argument between two old men. (Philipp explained to me it was about some famous German polar bear who turned one today).

'I think he is the owner of the bar,' Philipp said about the white haired man who started the argument. 'He looks familiar.' He did seem to know everyone. But then when Philipp went to the bathroom, he came back and said, 'He is actually the owner of the toliets. That is where I know him from.' (In Europe, you often have someone working the bathrooms collecting tips). Oops!

We then wandered to a jazz club for some music, which would have been okay but we were forced to stand some more. Standing at the pub was part of the experience, but now I was getting tired of standing. Luckily, Philipp had to go to bed. (Someone has to work tomorrow). It was a great night and a great finish to the city of Berlin and the country of Germany.

And to make the night complete, we took a cab home, German style, in a brand-new Mercedes-Benz. Not bad!


The standing pub. (you can sit there, too. Standing is just more fun).


Philipp and me.

Nothing happened today.

I woke up. It took me a half an hour to get out of bed. I ate breakfast. I went back to bed. I lied there with my eyes closed, listening to the construction outside, pepping myself to get up: 'ten more minutes.' 'five more minutes.' okay, two more minutes.' I read three pages of my book. I finally got up and showered. I lied down on my bed. I looked out the window to the blue skies and felt guilty. I looked in my Lonely Planet guide. Nothing interested me. But I would go out. I decided. I put on my shoes. I lied down on my bed, shoes on floor. I was about to leave, and the door opened. Christina was home.

Seeing her standing at the doorway, I did not want to go anywhere.

'I don't want to go anywhere!' I said. I slipped off my shoes. I followed her in the kitchen. We had chocolate from the advent calendar, some tea and cookies. She cleaned and I read my book.

(Just a tidbit about German moms: Christina received one year maternity leave from her job. By law her company must offer her a part-time option for the first three years. That is what she is doing when she returns to work after the New Year. I know some mothers in New York who are probably green with envy. My old job offered 3-month maternity leave and part-time work afterwards was not an option).

At 2:30, we picked up Ada from daycare and went to a coffeeshop specializing in chocolate aptly named Kakao. I had a traditional German black forest cake, Christina had a kind of fruity pink cake, and Ada had an banana. (By the way she kept grabbing for dessert, I see a future sweet tooth in our midst.) It was really nice sitting there with Christina. I find her so easy to talk with. We swapped stories about our families and I heard about her and Philipp's wedding in a castle. She also asked me if it was true that American weddings end at midnight.

'A wedding that ends that early would be seen as a bad wedding here,' she said. I am not sure why Americans do not party all night, but I am guessing it has something to do with the cost of the wedding reception place.

We went back home. Had some more tea. Christina appeased a cranky Ada as I finished my book. Philipp came home from work, and we had a delicious pasta and celery pasta dish with truffle oil on top, courtesy of Christina the chef. It is apparently her own invention, and it is a good one. And then some more cake, including a German-style cheesecake which is much lighter than I have ever had.

The night ended as is now our custom. Philipp and Christina debate over my program, and they go to bed as I sit in the kitchen until the wee hours of the night checking my email and writing my blog. Perhaps that is the reason why I cannot wake up in the morning?


Ada, future cake eater. And yes, I have spent the last twenty minutes trying to make this photo rightside up on Christina's MacBook. I do not know how! I give up!

My big mistake.

I walked into the Jewish Museum in Berlin today and was surprised to see metal detectors akin to an airport. I have been in many museums on this trip and have never seen such security before.

Hmmm, I thought to myself, perhaps something of interest to the readers of Polish Ham. I mean, don't you think that it is interesting that there is so much security in the Jewish museum in modern day Germany? I took my camera out of my pocket and snapped a quick picture.

Suddenly, everything went haywire. Security men were yelling and pointing at me. I was surrounded. People were yelling at me in German. And then finally a man in English said, 'Show me the picture you took.'

I showed it to him, and said 'I am sorry. I did not know.' I flashed him the picture, of someone walking through the metal detector, and erased it.

'Show me again,' he said.

'I erased it already!' I said, and to prove my point, I showed him all the pictures from yesterday including about five versions of 'I love Dan' spelled out in cookies.

'Okay, okay,' he said, letting me go. I was horribly embarassed. What was I thinking? I walked around nervously in circles and wondered if now I was being watched.

Agitated, I waited on line for the audio tour, and it took so long that I walked away. Went inside the musuem, which was creatively designed by Daniel Libeskind. There seemed to be lots of long hallways. I wasn't sure where to go and found myself first at this memorial for Holocaust victims, which was really stunning. It was in this isolated dark grey corner, and on the floor were thousands of thick pieces of metal shaped like faces. The faces looked simple at first, almost like cut out faces, but if you looked closer, the faces each had individual characteristics, the expressions filled with anguish. You were encouraged to walk over the floor of faces and when you did they emitted a loud clanging that sounded very eerie in that big quiet room. It was a powerful experience.

I walked out of there a little perplexed, still a little anxious, and began walking through the permanent exhibit, which was a hodgepodge of Jewish history, mementoes, artwork, biographies and interactive displays. I felt completely confused by the structure of the museum and the flow of the exhibit until half way through I saw a bunch of arrows on the floor facing the opposite direction. I was walking through the exhibit backwards.

I shrugged it off. It was just going to be one of these days. I learned in reverse everything there is to know, including seeing the other two abstract memorials, which did not impact me as much as the first one did.

I left the museum into the cold pouring rain, where I got all wet and realized I was heading the wrong way, so I walked back to the museum and the rain stopped. After a quick bite to eat, I trotted to the Topography of Terror, on recommendation of my hosts, which is an outdoor exhibit that talks about the structure and crimes of the SS during the Nazi era. The exhibit stands in the place where the headquarters once stood, where they planned all the strategies of terror and destruction including the extermination of the Jews. It is strange to think that people sat around and discussed and planned this, it did not just happen spontaneously. I was half way through the exhibit, cold as anything, squinting at the words as the sun went down, and then they kicked me out because they were closing. Oh well.

Walked through more rain and then I decided to get some warmth by going ontop of the Reichstag, the parliament building here. It is a traditional grand-looking place, however, on the top of the building is a glass sphere that was designed by Norman Foster, the same person who designed building where I used to work. You can go to the top and walk through a spiralling ramp that gives you views of the architecture and of the city. I did not take pictures at this security checkpoint (there were signs telling me not too--and I would expect to see security at a government building). But I was dismayed to find that there was no heat in the sphere (you could actually go outside) so I went in and out rather quickly, taking some fun pictures of the different shapes and designs.

I came back to the apartment wet, cold, exhausted, cranky, embarassed to tell my Philipp and Christina how I made a fool of myself in their country. (They laughed). Ada was going to bed, but she was so excited to see me, wiggling around and saying da da da over and over. After hearing about day (oh, the horrors!), Christina came up with the brilliant idea for me to take a bath. She even drew the water and let me choose the bath salts. It was just what I needed. And then they fed me dinner.


Floor of faces at the Jewish museum.


Sphere ontop of the Reichstag.


Inside the sphere.


View of the parliament meeting room. See blue chairs.

German Cookie Bonanza

Two years ago, I started a new tradition in my life called Cookie Bonanza. On December 23, I spend the entire day in the kitchen, making about 6 to 8 varieties of cookies that I package and give as gifts for Christmas to my family. The third annual Cookie Bonanza will take place this year when I return, however, today I had some practice baking some holiday cookies with Philipp and Christina.

With American holiday music playing in the background (from a candy bar promotional cd called 'Merry Twix-mas'), little Ada playing on her own mini-kitchen, we went to work. Philipp immediately started making these jam sandwich cookies, and Christina suggested that the two of us bake American style chocolate chip cookies.

A note on German baking. They do not use measuring spoons. All ingredients are weighed on a scale. They do not really sell chocolate chips here (you can get them, but they are kind of expensive), so I chopped up chocolate into fine pieces. When I saw that the dough was a dark brown color, I told Christina that in the States, we had light brown sugar and dark brown sugar, and chocolate chip cookies had light brown sugar. She did not know of such variations. As I scooped the dough onto the cookie sheet, it was a hard claylike texture, nothing like the soft, gooey stuff you would normally get with this recipe.

I had to break it to them: These are not American chocolate chip cookies.

'But look here,' Christina protested, showing me the German cookbook, 'This recipe is from someone in America.'

It may be true, but perhaps they alter the recipe using ingredients readily available to Germans. Or this American woman has intentions to fool the German baking population.

Coming out the oven, they looked more like the original, and they tasted very good, so there was nothing to complain about really. I had like three of them. I just made a mental note that if Philipp and Christina ever visit me in the States, I would need to give them a taste of the real thing.

Philipp came up with the idea of sending Dan a care package but we decided that two weeks of holding on to cookies would be too long, so we came up with an alternative plan:



We were ambitious at first, hoping to make six different kinds of cookies. We only ended up with four, one made of dough and parmesian, was more of a savory than a sweet. Philipp suggested we go to a Christmas market--which is this big German traditional market where you can buy ornaments and holiday food and whatnot--but Christina and I were lazy and tired, our bellies filled with sugar, and so we did not go. We watched good ol Tartot instead. I contemplated decorating ideas for my new non-existent apartment instead of following the plot.

In Ada news, since my arrival, she continues to achieve. She has made about 6 small steps in a row. Her hair has grown. A new tooth has popped out overnight. And today she slipped and hit her mouth and blood squirted all over the place. Her first blood bath. And I was there.

This Ada sure likes opening drawers and taking things out of the drawers and throwing things that belong in drawers on the floor. Her means of communication--an arm outreached with an eh! eh! eh! sound--is quite effective in getting what she wants. I think she is still suspicious of me, and my English-speaking ways, but sometimes she will crawl to me, stand up, grasp on my leg and wobble to her heart's delight. I let her. Because she is nice. And her parents are okay, too. But they did not feed me dinner.

(They dared me to write that. I took that dare. Now everyone knows.)


Chocolate chip cookies? I don't think so! (But I will eat them anyway!)


Ada in her wooden crib.


One big happy cookie family.

Get with the program.

The program.

There has been a surprising development.

I, traveling for three months now, have been looking forward to coming back to New York and having a stable homebase. However, I have just learned that I no longer have one. Dan and I were unable to negotiate with our landlords regarding our rent increase, and so we have decided that they can shove the $200 extra a month up their ass and we're moving out. We are confronted with the following challenges:

Dan has to look (and possibly choose) an apartment without me.

When I get home in two weeks, I will have to pack my stuff and be out by December 31.

I am out of a job and knowing New York City´s crazy rent standards (needing to show paycheck stubs and whatnot), I am nervous we will get screwed somehow (though the broker we contacted says it should not be a problem).

Will we even be able to find an apartment at this time of year? Who moves January 1?!?

While fretting about the idea of finding a new home (which will undoubtedly be too small and cost too much), I come to Berlin to stay at the home of Philipp, who you may remember as core member of the inner circle from Polish class, his wife Christina and their 11-month daughter, Ada. Completely tired of hostels (especially after the Amsterdam experience), I was overjoyed a few day ago when Philipp asked if I would like to stay with them. Would I ever!

Philipp and I met on platform 5 in Berlin's brand new train station in dramatic fashion: He on one side, I on the other. If it weren't for the concrete and train tracks, and the fact that I could barely move with my packs strapped to me, it was almost like running across a field of flowers to greet an old friend.

'This is a typical Berlin apartment,' he told me as we walked through the door of his home, saying hello to Christina and Ada. The place is in an old building, and just like most of the other buildings on their street, newly renovated. About three of my apartments could fit into theirs. They have a living room, a dining room, a master bedroom, a baby room, a kitchen, two bathrooms (equipped with washer and dryer), and two long hallways which makes for a nice design. It is stylish, but not uncomfortable, decorated in charming red, electric blue and white motif. Their walls are lined with interesting artwork and photographs, but they have books and papers and babytoys and trinkets littering their shelves and floors, as if to say, 'I am cool, but people live here.' They live in a neighborhood filled with fun shops, close to the center of town. I have seen at least three record stores in this city already which would make my boyfriend very happy. And they pay less in rent than we do back in New York. Why are we living in New York again?

There is a lot of activity in this home. Philipp and Christina seem like the type of people who always keep busy with so many friends and engagements and parties plus the baby. Also, within 30 minutes of being there, Ada takes her first step (only Philipp saw the first, we saw the second and third) and says 'Danke' for the first time. How's that for excitement?

I like their energy. Immediately, Philipp and Christina wanted to set up a program for me on exploring the city. I have been so laid back in my sight-seeing approach that having a program (as they referred to it) made me a little nervous.

'How do you want to approach the city?' Phillipp asked me. 'What are your interests?'

I gulped. I was a little embarassed to admit that I did not know much about Berlin at all. I know of no landmarks except for the Berlin Wall and that doesn't even really exist anymore. And approach? Does finding the best cake shops in town count as an approach?

So I asked them to recommend me a program, and so Christina created a walking plan for me which she drew on a map in green marker. Philipp went over the map, adding his own lines. They talked about places with names I could not pronounce, and I nodded and said yes that sounds good, even though I wasn't sure what any of these places were.

So with map in hand, I ventured into the city. It was one of these big maps, that folded a hundred times over, the kind where if you unfolded it, you could never get it back to its original condition again. And that meant I kept losing the little green line in these folds (I kept finding another green line that looked like it was drawn for another visitor). At one point, I was struggling with this map so long that a person on the street asked if I needed help.

'Oh, my friends,' I sputtered, 'gave me a program.' The man raised his eyebrow. I finally found the green line and showed him.

'Ah, yes!' he said, And then he started pointing out other streets that would be of interest to me. I was nervous he would take out his own green marker. But he didn't.

The Germans knew what they were doing, and basically they had me walk from their apartment down through the Mitte neighborhood, where first I walked through an impossibly hip street filled with coffee shops, art galleries, and little boutiques, decorated with enough grafiti to make it rough around the edges. This took me to an area filled with retailers and Starbucks, including one jewerly store where you could make your own jewelry from a variety of beads and objects, including little dolls. I was not sure if this was totally kitsch and awesome, or just plain scary. Finally this led me to all the big blockbuster sights, which I have never known of before, but oohed and ahhed anyway.

Out of all the cities I have visited thus far, Berlin feels the most liveable to me, perhaps because it is the most like New York. Sometimes walking around New York, I feel inspired by the energy of the place: the buildings, the people, the bustle. I felt the same way here and could not help snapping pictures left and right, trying to capture some of this feeling. While I do not know all the names of the places I saw today (nor can I really pronounce them) but I felt like I had a good sense of what the city has to offer. And what I saw, I really liked.

I came back to the apartment, and helped put Ada to bed. (Well, watched Christina do it). Christina went to a friend's house and Philipp and I made a pasta dinner. (Well, he made it and I sliced carrots). I like the little home that they have created for themselves here, and I hope that come Jan 1, Dan and I will have one something like it of our own.


Philipp, Tina and Ada's apartment. The living room and my room.


Gritty Berlin.


Magnificent Berlin.