November 3, 2012
November 1, 2012
A Glimpse of Halloween in Berlin
When I was a child, there was no Halloween in Germany. We celebrated Fasching, and I dressed up as a native American, a princess, or a cowboy.
Things have changed around here. Last night, we met some of Nova's Kita friends to roam the streets of our neighborhood and try some trick or treating. One mom had organized the route, with a few designated apartments of friends, where we could be sure people would be home and dole out sweets.
The kids, holding hands, were running down the lantern-lit streets, covered with leaves. And there were so many others: Berlin children and teenagers, all dressed up in spooky outfits (my favorite one: a ghost with a boom box on his shoulder, blaring Peter Fox songs). Where did all these German Halloween kids come from?
Besides our friends, who put candles and pumpkins in the stairwells to guide us to the right floor, many shops and restaurants in our neighborhood stayed open late and were prepared for little ghosts: A baker welcomed us with bonbons, an Italian restaurant offered cookies, and the wonderful Saint George's Book Store had a basket filled with chocolate bars.
After our nightly wanderings, we went back to our friend's house for some carrot soup and Mac'n Cheese. And more candy.
Things have changed around here. Last night, we met some of Nova's Kita friends to roam the streets of our neighborhood and try some trick or treating. One mom had organized the route, with a few designated apartments of friends, where we could be sure people would be home and dole out sweets.
The kids, holding hands, were running down the lantern-lit streets, covered with leaves. And there were so many others: Berlin children and teenagers, all dressed up in spooky outfits (my favorite one: a ghost with a boom box on his shoulder, blaring Peter Fox songs). Where did all these German Halloween kids come from?
Besides our friends, who put candles and pumpkins in the stairwells to guide us to the right floor, many shops and restaurants in our neighborhood stayed open late and were prepared for little ghosts: A baker welcomed us with bonbons, an Italian restaurant offered cookies, and the wonderful Saint George's Book Store had a basket filled with chocolate bars.
After our nightly wanderings, we went back to our friend's house for some carrot soup and Mac'n Cheese. And more candy.
October 29, 2012
A Beginning
I am writing so much in my head, especially when I am on my bike, but it has been difficult to sit down, to write down. How to begin?
We have been in Berlin for over a month now, from September to October, and so much has happened: We started Kita, we got sick, we ran to many different Ämter for paperwork, we searched for (and found) an apartment, we worked, we had two dear visitors, we reconnected with old friends, and thrillingly, we already found new ones. How easy it sometimes seems to make friends if you have kids. Kids are such a wonderful bridge.
Time seemed to be running slow this last month. My senses sharpened as I was riding my bike through Berlin; besides its many old, familiar faces, I found myself again and again in parts of the city that I didn't recognize anymore. So many changes everywhere.
And on my daily morning bike rides to Kita, even the familiar can feel brand new. As if I have never seen the change of a season so clearly. The falling leaves, quiet like snow - it seems like I see them tumbling from the sky for the first time. The brilliant colors against a blue sky or a white wall - a fiery red, a cheery orange, tinged edges. This morning, the first frost covering leaves and grass, glittering in the cold sun. I love to tell Nova about the seasons, and somehow this feels like a first autumn for both of us.
We have been in Berlin for over a month now, from September to October, and so much has happened: We started Kita, we got sick, we ran to many different Ämter for paperwork, we searched for (and found) an apartment, we worked, we had two dear visitors, we reconnected with old friends, and thrillingly, we already found new ones. How easy it sometimes seems to make friends if you have kids. Kids are such a wonderful bridge.
Time seemed to be running slow this last month. My senses sharpened as I was riding my bike through Berlin; besides its many old, familiar faces, I found myself again and again in parts of the city that I didn't recognize anymore. So many changes everywhere.
And on my daily morning bike rides to Kita, even the familiar can feel brand new. As if I have never seen the change of a season so clearly. The falling leaves, quiet like snow - it seems like I see them tumbling from the sky for the first time. The brilliant colors against a blue sky or a white wall - a fiery red, a cheery orange, tinged edges. This morning, the first frost covering leaves and grass, glittering in the cold sun. I love to tell Nova about the seasons, and somehow this feels like a first autumn for both of us.
August 24, 2012
Portland
On our way to our Amondson Family Reunion, we spent two nights in Portland, which has been on my to-see list for while. And how happy I was that we could squeeze in this little city trip: Walking the leavy streets of Irvington, swinging in Mount Tabor Park, browsing through Powell's Books, biking along the waterfront. Eating our way through Hawaiian donuts, pulled pork sandwiches, chicken pot pie, and Swedish lefse at the colorful food trucks gathered at Belmont and 43rd street.
What a happy time it was! We stayed at a little bed and breakfast that turned out to be an urban farm, complete with cats, chicken and goats in the backyard. Nova collected three eggs in the morning and Andrew soft boiled them perfectly for our late breakfast. Then we took the goats Zoe and Bella on a little walk through our neighborhood, them tearing at thorny blackberry bushes and weeds along the sidewalk.
Tierra Soul
4614 N Michigan
Portland, Oregon
97217
What a happy time it was! We stayed at a little bed and breakfast that turned out to be an urban farm, complete with cats, chicken and goats in the backyard. Nova collected three eggs in the morning and Andrew soft boiled them perfectly for our late breakfast. Then we took the goats Zoe and Bella on a little walk through our neighborhood, them tearing at thorny blackberry bushes and weeds along the sidewalk.
Tierra Soul
4614 N Michigan
Portland, Oregon
97217
July 26, 2012
Evening walk trough MacArthur Park, L.A.
The lights of the city cast a magical light on the lake in the middle of the park.
During the day, you can see the trash littered throughout the park.
But at night, everything becomes beautiful. 
It was early evening, and the playground was filled with kids.
Back on 6th street, we were walking back to our house on the hill.
July 17, 2012
Empty
I just listened to Sylee Gore's "Empty Spaces" on berlin stories; she talks about how the city used to be filled with these vacant lots, overgrown with trees and gras, often transformed into pop-up bars, spots for impromptu gatherings, a little wilderniss for the big city.
I became nostalgic when I listened to Sylee's story. I can vividly remember the lot at Senefelder Platz she talks about, the "Bauwagen", literally a construction trailer, which parked in the tall weeds for a couple of summers, surrounded by simple deck chairs. Back then, I lived just around the corner and loved to come here after my university class for a drink and some afternoon sun.
Many of these empty spaces are gone now.
But not all of them.
Back in 1999, I shared my first Berlin apartment with my brother in Kreuzberg, at the end of Cuvrystrasse, right by the water. The huge lot opposite our place was vacant, taken over by grass, bushes, and young people who loved to picknick by the edge of the water.
There were rumors. A big shopping mall was planned. Then office spaces. Then condominiums.
Today, the lot is more overgrown than ever. Nothing was built here. Whenever I visit my brother, who still lives on the top floor of the place we once shared, I look out of the window, relieved about the open space that stretches in front of me, the changing colors of the sky, the little wilderness in the middle of the city.
Banksy loves this space too.
I became nostalgic when I listened to Sylee's story. I can vividly remember the lot at Senefelder Platz she talks about, the "Bauwagen", literally a construction trailer, which parked in the tall weeds for a couple of summers, surrounded by simple deck chairs. Back then, I lived just around the corner and loved to come here after my university class for a drink and some afternoon sun.
Many of these empty spaces are gone now.
But not all of them.
Back in 1999, I shared my first Berlin apartment with my brother in Kreuzberg, at the end of Cuvrystrasse, right by the water. The huge lot opposite our place was vacant, taken over by grass, bushes, and young people who loved to picknick by the edge of the water.
There were rumors. A big shopping mall was planned. Then office spaces. Then condominiums.
Today, the lot is more overgrown than ever. Nothing was built here. Whenever I visit my brother, who still lives on the top floor of the place we once shared, I look out of the window, relieved about the open space that stretches in front of me, the changing colors of the sky, the little wilderness in the middle of the city.
Banksy loves this space too.
July 15, 2012
When I think of summer...
When I think of summer in Berlin, one of the first things that comes to mind is the fairy tale fountain, gateway to the lush Volkspark Friedrichshain. It is lined with stoney sculptures from the Brother Grimm's folk tales; Little Red Riding Hood, Cinderella, and Sleeping Beauty, all sitting side by side.
When I came here last summer, it was an especially hot day, and some children were bathing in the knee-deep water of the fountain. I took in this magical scene, and my heart ached a bit. For I was living far away, in Los Angeles, and this magical fountain in the middle of leafy Berlin became a symbol of so many things that I missed deeply.
In a couple of months, I am returning to Berlin, this time with my little family, and I can't wait to come back here with little N, sitting on the edge of the fountain, marveling at the fairies all around us, and waiting until the sun is warm enough so that we can dangle our feet in the water.
Address:
Am Friedrichshain (in Volkspark), 10249 Berlin
When I came here last summer, it was an especially hot day, and some children were bathing in the knee-deep water of the fountain. I took in this magical scene, and my heart ached a bit. For I was living far away, in Los Angeles, and this magical fountain in the middle of leafy Berlin became a symbol of so many things that I missed deeply.
Address:
Am Friedrichshain (in Volkspark), 10249 Berlin
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