OMG! I Ate Some Meat!

Germans sure love their meat, to the point where even a vegetarian can start to get cravings for a piece of crisp juicy animal flesh. I’ve been a vegetarian for eleven years, and like most vegetarians, I’ve “cheated” from time to time. I should have known from the start that Berlin had it in for me, with its sausage stands and low prices and döner (kebab) vendors and supermarkets offering every kind of meat you could think of.
Alexander Platz was a particularly tempting place for a vegetarian like me. After hours of busking (performing by the street), a girl can work up quite an appetite. There are easily six bratwurst stands by the Alexander Platz U Bahn. Sausage, sausage everywhere and not a bite to eat! Until I totally caved. I couldn’t help it. One day I was so hungry and the sausages were sizzling on the grill and my friend was beside me, sinking his teeth into a perfectly crisp bratwurst. Man, that sausage was so good.
I told myself it wouldn’t happen again. It was just one sausage. A girl can cheat once in a while. It’ okay, right? Well, apparently not, because now I’m freaking addicted to bratwurst. It’s the best bang for my buck at a euro and twenty cents. And the bratwurst are all lined up, waiting to be munched. No lines to wait in. Fast, cheap, convenient, filling, and so damn delicious.
Bratwurst has been my only exception, though. Germans can get downright weird with their meat. I went to a dinner party and there were several jars on the table next to a plate of crackers. I thought that the jars contained maybe hummus or cheese or some kind of spread. Nope. It was meat in a jar! All kinds of strange, processed meats: blood sausage, liver, and god knows what else. It looked like cat food. And kind of smelled like it, too.
Now, some people don’t classify fish as meat, but most vegetarians do. If you add fish to your definition of meat, then the meat in Germany gets even stranger. Pickled herring on a bun? Germans love it. Fish burgers, fish filets, fish with the scales still on, you name it and you can find it, at least in Berlin. They even have fish bakeries.
There was a jar of herring in the fridge of the apartment we’re renting. My fiance, Wilson, had the brilliant idea of opening up the jar to sample its contents. He didn’t get that far, though, because after one whiff the lid was back on and the fridge was slammed shut.
Wilson didn’t warn me about the jar of herring, though. I only found out because he gave me a hug and I couldn’t believe how bad he smelled. He must have washed his hands a dozen times before the smell started to wear off. But our fridge still smells like fish whenever we open it up.
After the jar of herring experience, I feel like my bratwurst addiction is acceptable. Because hey, it could be a lot worse. I could be addicted to pickled herring instead.

Sunday Night in Friedrichshain

What to do on a Sunday night in Berlin? Friedrichshain is one of those up and coming neighborhoods, full of misfits, beat necks, artists and musicians. Wilson Gil and I knew we’d happen upon something cool if we ventured out there. Friedrichshain is gritty and in your face. Right when you get out of the subway, you’re hit with the beauty and awe of the city as you walk across the Warschauer bridge. The radio tower in Alexander Platz looms in the distance, the buildings cast their twinkling lights on the canal, and a mob of people rushes past as everyone exits from the subway trains.
The neighborhood is awash in restaurants. We had a craving for Thai food, so we took the advice of a friend and went to “Lemongrass”. The joint was slamming. The food was rocking. And the international vibe was intense. There must have been at least twenty nationalities represented in that one tiny restaurant. That’s the flavor of Berlin.
Wilson Gil’s favorite little music bar, Art Liners, is in Friedrichshain. Art Liners has an open jam every Sunday night and all sorts of musicians congregate there to have their go at the mike. Everything from banjo to accordion to the kazoo.
The bar brings attracts some interesting fans, as well. One in particular, whom everyone knows (because how could you not), is a punk rock chick named Vina. I’m not sure what exactly, but something happened to that girl along the way and now she’s, well, let’s just call her a free spirit. Wilson Gil played a show at Art Liners a few weeks back and Vina just loved him- so much that she decided to wrap her arms around his legs half way through his set, all the while screaming something incoherent in German. I think she was trying to say that she really liked his music.
On this particular Sunday night, however, Vina had it in for me. She came up to me, threw her arms around me, and proceeded to grab my ass and kiss my cheek. “You a nice woman!” she said as she looked me up and down. I managed to crawl out from her grasp and made sure to stay far away for the rest of the night.
The crazy characters really just add to the jacked up vibe of the bar, though. It’s so great to smoke a cigarette, down a glass of beer, and listen to various musicians do Rolling Stones and Johnny Cash covers, while people are dancing around between the tables. Lots of great original music, too. I hope one day to be able to hear one of the musicians on the radio and say, “Hey! I knew them when…”
The rain was pouring down by the time we left Art Liners, but we didn’t mind. The air was still, and it was kind of nice to walk through the streets in the rain, hand in hand with my love.

Will Pay Cash for Panties

Craigslist has been a great resource for my dancing career. The site has provided me with instructors, dance mates, and lots of dance gigs. (If any of you don’t know what Craigslist is, check it out: www.craigslist.org).
I’ve got just a couple weeks left in Berlin, so I was perusing Craigslist today to see if there were any dance opportunities for me when I get to California. Just a couple of things looked promising, so out of curiosity, I decided to see what was available under the other “gigs” categories.
“Domestic” gigs had some nanny, housekeeping, and tutoring jobs listed. I could do any of those. There were lots of Halloween gigs listed under “talent” and “event”. Waiting tables in a costume for $100/hour? Sounds like a good deal, but I don’t know if I want to give up my Halloween night. I was hoping to find something cool under “writing” gigs, but the pickings were slim. So, what to do?
I ventured into “adult” gigs, just to take a peek. Holy moly. That’s where all the money is! Did you know there are men willing to buy my used panties for $50? Hell, they’re not just willing, they’re begging for it. And I wear panties anyway, why not make some money off of it? Of course, there’s a little more involved than just wearing the panties, but I’ll leave the rest up to your imagination.
Nude modeling? The prices ranged from hundreds of dollars to “it will be good for your portfolio”. Seemed a little shady to me. Adult videos, web camming, and other porn related gigs offered lots of Gs, but I guess I’m not as open-minded as I thought, ‘cause I just can’t go there.
Aside from selling my panties, there really wasn’t much for me under “adult” gigs. One last place to check. There is a “etcetera” section under the job listings. After looking through the job offers I understood why it was called “etcetera”. There was everything from market research surveys to taste testing to egg donation.
Do you know how much you get paid to donate your eggs? Around $7,000. (Sorry fellas, no boys allowed). The process seems intensive, but for $7,000 a month, I’m seriously considering it. And it would make a good daily blog, too: “My Month as an Egg Donor”. And it’s for a good cause.
Now I have to figure out what to tell people when they ask me what my occupation is. “I’m a panty-selling-belly-dancing-egg-donor”? I’m just not sure if it has the right ring to it.

Berlin's Dichotomies

Berlin is at once a massive yet tiny city. It is a city of ghosts and of vibrant life. It is a place where the East meets the West, and everything in between.
I wasn’t sure what to expect when I came to Berlin. But the one thing I didn’t expect was to feel severely depressed for my first month of being there.
After weeks of pondering and agonizing over why I was feeling so down, I finally figured it out: I wasn’t able to ground myself. I was lost. And yet I wasn’t. That was it. Berlin has so many dichotomies, that I wasn’t sure how to feel half the time. There is a constant shift from “hot” to “cold” and my body wasn’t sure how to react.
Most Berliners speak some English, to the point where one can be deceived into thinking that they don’t need to learn Deutsch. Big mistake. While it’s a total blessing to communicate in English while in a foreign country, one has to be aware that all media, websites, signs, and vital information is not in English. Germany is not a bilingual country, even though it sometimes appears to be. Mein Deutsch ist schlect, but I thought I could get by without knowing the language. In reality, one can just get by in Berlin with only speaking English. But if you want any level of success, knowing Deutsch is crucial.
Berlin has so much to offer, but when you just arrive, it’s almost too much. Where do you start? As a dancer, there was a million studios, instructors, and venues to choose from, but it was hard to get an “in”. Even when you think you have an “in”, it’s really just the tip of the iceberg. For every club you’ve been to, there are a hundred that you don’t even know about.
There is also a contrast between East and West Berlin, and at the same time a unity amongst all Berliners. So, where to live? I still haven’t figured that one out, although I have found some neighborhoods that I love. Neukölln and Kreuzburg are my favorite, but I love Mitte and Charlottenburg and Prenzlauer berg, as well. And each neighborhood offers a totally different experience, so it’s a tough decision.
There are way too many dichotomies to list. What I do find comfort in is knowing that I’m not the only one who has felt depressed upon arriving in Berlin. I met a singer/song writer named Orit Shimoni. She wrote a wonderful song called "Sadder Music" that sums up exactly how I was feeling. It was a great moment to be sitting outside at a picnic table on a hot summer night, surrounded by people from all walks of life, listening to Orit spill her soul about Berlin. It’s always nice knowing there is someone to whom I can relate.
After being in Berlin for three months, the depression has passed. I love the city, and all of its quirks and charms. And I sympathize with Berlin. Despite being over 700 years old, Berlin is somewhat like a teenager with an identity crisis. Is the city Gothic, punk, historical, modern, hip, rundown, or just content with being all of the above? Whichever the case, Berlin has a little something for everyone. You just have to be content with whatever the city throws your way.